


Captive

by amarielah



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aspie!Miyako, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, No Split Personalities, Non-Sexual Coercion, Overblown Teen Drama, Panic Attacks, Sexual Repression, Teen Romance, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Relationships, basically what digimon 02 would be like as a shojo, japanese beauty standards, marked as underage in accordance with US laws, takes place in 2007 instead of 2002, they're of-age in many countries: including Japan, thicc!Miyako
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-13 15:37:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 73,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11188149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarielah/pseuds/amarielah
Summary: In which Miyako gets captured, the Kaiser is repressed in all the wrong ways, and things become more complicated than either of them want.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Some notes on Ken:**
> 
> I've never bought into the theory that Ken and the Kaiser are separate entities. This fic explores Ken's characterization based on the assumption that the Kaiser is still Ken and vice-versa. I think to do otherwise robs Ken's character of a lot of nuance and complexity. So if you're expecting a fic where the Kaiser displays more sadism than he did canonically, you're going to have to look elsewhere.
> 
> Ken in 16 in this fic.
> 
> **Some notes on Miyako:**
> 
> Even though it's never stated explicitly in the narrative itself, I write Miyako as if she has Aspergers syndrome. I base this off of her canon characterization, which is an unintentionally good representation of how Apsergers can look in girls. Given her eating habits and her character design from the dreaded Epilogue, I've also decided to make her what the Japanese now call a "marshmallow girl". Or what tumblr might refer to as "thicc". For reference to what this means in the context of Japan, see these images:  
> https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CecQVrQWsAAot-0.jpg:large  
> http://cdn.clickme.net/Gallery/2014/04/28/64290cfb8ef08899643d35afae3499cc.jpg
> 
> I also write her based on the assumption that she's bisexual, though unaware of it.
> 
> Miyako is 17 in this fic.
> 
> **Some notes on the fic:**
> 
> I first published this fic in 2009, so I went back and revised it extensively before posting it here. I hope this version has more showing and less telling. 
> 
> And now, with all that out of the way, onward to the fic!

As far as cells went, it could have been worse. Sure, the concrete-like substance that constituted her 'bench' was so cold that her butt-cheeks were starting to go numb. And sure, she was still feeling raw from the events that had led her up to this point. But still - it could have been worse. Like something out of a cheap action flick, with water dripping down from the ceiling. And hey, at least she wasn't shackled to the wall.

Miyako was well aware that there were in fact innumerable ways that her current situation could have been worse, but that did not mean that she had to be happy about it.

"For the record," she said, as coldly as she could, "I'm going to punch you as soon as I get out of here."

The Kaiser, being the insufferable jerk that he was, only smirked. "Even if it were possible for an insect like you to escape, I sincerely doubt that you'd ever be able to punch me."

Miyako crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. "You just _wait_."

The Kaiser's smirk became nastier. "I trust you like your accommodations? I designed it specifically for human prisoners, although I didn't know I'd have a chance to use it so soon." He walked a bit closer to the metal bars that separated the cell from the rest of the corridor. "I must say I'm a little disappointed - I never expected you to practically _walk_ into my hands." He snickered. "Maybe I gave all of you too much credit."

Miyako felt her cheeks grow warm with shame; for once, he was absolutely right. What made this whole fiasco so especially awful was that it could've easily been avoided if she had just used common sense.

But Miyako did have a bad habit of doing very dumb things when she was stressed.

"I'm curious," the Kaiser continued, tone mocking. "What could have possessed you to come here all by yourself, without even your digimon to protect you?"

Miyako glared at him through the bars. At that moment, she would have given anything to be able to wipe that damn smirk off his face. "If you must know, I wanted some peace and quiet." She felt the telltale burn of oncoming tears, but refused to let it go any further than that. There was no way in hell that she would let the Kaiser see her cry. "Not all of us have the luxury of being irresponsible, you know. Some of us have _exams_."

Even though Miyako couldn't see his eyes, it was clear from the way his mouth tightened that she'd pissed him off. She knew it probably wasn't a great idea to antagonize him, but she couldn't help but feel a certain amount of triumph.

The Kaiser stalked even closer, hands curling around the bars. "Don't presume to know anything about me, _maggot_."

Miyako took a deep breath, trying to get the rampant twisting of her insides under control. "Right," she said. "How long do you plan to keep me here, anyway?"

The Kaiser's smirk returned. "Hmm..." He let go of the bars, and used one of his hands to stroke his chin, as if in deep contemplation. "You know, I haven't really decided yet. Certainly as long as it takes your friends to follow your trail."

At that, Miyako felt her heart jump into her throat. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"You all track one another using your Digivices, correct? Well..." He leaned forward, like he wanted to share an intimate secret. "Let's just say that yours is being held in a place where your comrades may run into a good deal of trouble."

It took a moment for his words to sink in properly, but when they did, Miyako couldn't help herself. "You're _sick_ ," she spat.

"Am I?" asked the Kaiser, clearly amused.

She swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at his face. "...Do you still have my D-Terminal?"

"I do. Why?"

"Can't I at least tell them that I'm still alive? That way, I know they'll make up something believable to tell my parents." Of course, that still wouldn't help with the biggest problem. "And maybe they'll be able to do something about school."

"No," said the Kaiser.

Finally, Miyako summoned the will to look at him again. "Why not? It's the least you can do."

"Don't insult my intelligence. You'll use it to warn them."

Miyako stood up and walked closer to the bars, hoping that her legs weren't as wobbly as they felt. "You can look over my shoulder to make sure."

The Kaiser's expression shifted into something that she couldn't decipher. "My answer is 'no'. You're the prisoner, remember? I don't have to explain anything to you."

Miyako made a sound of incredulity. "So you don't care if my family thinks I'm dead?"

"The feelings of insects are of no concern to me."

Shaking her head in disbelief, she said, "I always knew you were a cruel, disgusting _jerk_. But this? This is a whole new low."

The Kaiser's fists clenched at his sides. "I don't expect somebody like you to understand my perfection," he growled.

She found herself unable to hold back any longer. "I..." she began, the anger gnawing away at her like a ravenous dog. She gritted her teeth, and her hands began to shake. Finally, she yelled, "I hate you!" And with that, she stomped over to the far side of the cell, slumping against the wall and crossing her arms tight across her chest.

"I really couldn't care less," replied the Kaiser. After that, the clacking of his boots made it clear that he was finally done with his gloating.

Sliding down the wall until she was sitting upon the cold floor, Miyako drew her knees under her chin and hugged them to her chest.

* * *

The Kaiser was immensely pleased with himself as he made his way back to his control room. The imposter Chosen Child had been almost too easy to capture, and her anger and humiliation were incredibly amusing. He really did love it when his plans came together so flawlessly.

He also found himself rather pleased that it had been this particular enemy who had fallen into his hands. The incident with the Gokimon during Golden Week had provided him a great deal of amusement, and was endlessly rewatchable.

Curious as to how his new prisoner would act without his immediate presence, he commanded the main screen to bring up the cell where she was being held, and turned on the audio feed.

His ears were greeted with harsh sobbing.

The young woman was curled up on the floor, her whole body shaking with the force of her sobs. She was beating the floor with one of her fists, and saying something to herself that was too soft for him to hear. After a moment or two of this, she flinched and cradled that same hand, sobbing even harder.

Wormmon scuttled over, clearly concerned. "Are you sure about this, Ken-chan?"

The Kaiser glared at him. "Of course I'm sure." He lashed out with a kick, causing Wormmon to topple over onto his side, legs flailing uselessly in the chilly air. "And stop calling me that."

After managing to regain his footing through sheer force of will, Wormmon lowered his eyes and said, "Whatever you say."

The Kaiser turned his attention back to the screen, and felt compelled to shut it off. He was annoyed to find that the scene was making him feel _guilty_ , of all things. That woman was the one who had been stupid enough to get herself caught, wasn't she? Why did he have to be concerned that she was experiencing the proper consequences? And why was she even getting so upset in the first place? If she wasn't prepared to deal with all the outcomes of the game, then she shouldn't have been playing.

Standing abruptly, he went back down to the cellblock. When he arrived, he pulled her D-Terminal from out of his cape, and cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Her head snapped up at the noise, and her eyes red and wet from crying. Horrified, she did her best to wipe away what was left of her tears, but started to hiccup in the process.

The Kaiser showed her the D-Terminal. "I've decided that it would be advantageous if your friends still thought you were alive, since they're more likely to look for you under such circumstances."

"...Excuse me?" asked the girl, in-between hiccups.

"I was being clear enough."

She sighed. "This is a trick, isn't it?" A hiccup. "You're just doing this to mess with my head."

He conceded that it was something he might have thought to do, were the situation different. "It isn't a trick." He didn't give her a chance to respond. "Of course, you'll only be dictating the message to me. And don't even try to use some kind of code - I'll be able to see through it."

Miyako gave a harsh laugh, followed by a hiccup. "Right," she said sarcastically. "Because we had the foresight to make up a secret code."

One of the Kaiser's eyebrows went up slightly at the sudden change in her attitude. Luckily, it was obscured by his dark glasses. "It doesn't matter either way." He prepared himself to type. "Get on with it," he commanded.

"Aren't you at least going to insult me first?" Her hiccups had finally stopped. "I know that you saw me when you walked in. Isn't that enough to earn me a 'maggot'?"

"Is this what you want me to write to your friends?"

She gave a bark of bitter laughter. "You know what? You should record yourself sometime and listen to the way you talk. I think you'd be embarrassed by how pompous you sound."

The Kaiser told himself that her words were meaningless, but the anger flared up all the same. "You'd do well to watch your words, insect."

She smiled nastily at that. "You're predictable, Ichijouji-kun. All you need to do now is throw in some comment about how perfect you are, and this'll be just like every other time I've seen you."

This was the first time she had actually called him by any kind of name. For some reason, it made his stomach twist. "If you keep up this childishness, I won't allow you to contact your friends."

"Yeah, well - maybe I'd rather that they think I'm dead than do what you say."

He would never admit it, but those words unsettled him. It was hard for him to conceive of somebody hating him so much that they would sabotage their own piece of mind just to spite him. "You're surprisingly petty," he said, careful to keep his discomfort from affecting in his voice.

Her smile became sad. "At least I still have the element of surprise, right?" She sighed. "Why don't you just write it yourself?"

"I want it to sound authentic." The Kaiser averted his eyes, feeling even more uncomfortable. This wasn't turning out to be nearly as satisfying as it should have been. "In any case...what's your name?" He already knew her name, of course. Just like he knew that she had an excessive fondness for tuna futomaki. But she didn't need to know that he knew.

She hesitated, as if she thought he was planning something. But after a moment, she said, "Inoue Miyako."

The Kaiser turned around swiftly with a flourish of his cape. "Very well then, Inoue-san - it looks like there is nothing more to say."

"...You're not going to insist that I call you 'Digimon Kaiser-sama', or something?"

He cast a glance over his shoulder, smirking. "Maybe I'm not as predictable as you seem to think I am." He purposefully twisted his mouth in a manner he knew gave him a sinister edge. "If I were you, I would bear that in mind."

He began to walk out of the cellblock for the second time that day, only to have his prisoner shout, "Wait!"

He halted. "Yes?"

"I..." Finally, she was using the right tone of voice - the one that he knew how to react to. "You don't expect me to...go... _here_ , do you?"

Outwardly he betrayed nothing, but inwardly he reveled in sadistic triumph. "'Go'? I'm not sure I understand what you mean by that."

"You know _exactly_ what I mean, jerkface."

He resisted the urge to cackle. "No, I really don't."

There was a moment of silence, and he imagined that she was wearing a _very_ amusing expression, though he didn't turn around to confirm his suspicions. "Please, Ichijouji-kun...there isn't even a toilet in here. Are you really the type of person who treats people like...like they're _sick animals_?"

He paused for a moment, as if seriously considering the question. "No," he finally said, turning around. "I'm certainly not that kind of person. Provided that my _guests_ are respectful and address me properly."

She looked supremely incredulous. "You have _got_ to be kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Sighing in frustration, she said, deadly soft, "Can I please go to the bathroom...Digimon Kaiser-sama?"

He raised a hand to his ear. "What was that? I couldn't quite catch it."

She glared and repeated through gritted teeth, "Can I...please...go to the bathroom...Digimon Kaiser-sama?"

He smiled. "Of course you may," he said, feigning benevolence. "I'll instruct one of the guards to escort you."

* * *

It was a few hours later when Miyako was disturbed again by her captor. She had been trying to fall asleep on her 'bench', her stomach rumbling so loudly that she could swear it was echoing off the walls of her cell. The bench seemed impervious to body heat; it was like trying to fall asleep on a block of ice. All these things, coupled with an insistent throbbing in her head, made her endeavor predictably fruitless.

The cell door creaked open.

Miyako made a vain attempt to stop shivering.

The Kaiser's voice rang out with clear authority. "Bring it in."

There was the distinctive sound of something hard scuttling against the cell's floor - Gotsumon, Miyako guessed, though she didn't roll over to check - and then the sound of something of substantial weight being set down. And, perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her, but she could definitely smell something appetizing.

Finally, she rolled over.

She blinked.

There was a bed.

"I knew that you were still awake," said the Kaiser. "I brought you something to eat."

She pushed herself upright, still shivering, and her stomach gave another loud rumble. "Um..." she began, unsure of how to respond. She'd been sure that she was going to be stuck trying to sleep in the cold. "Thanks."

He put something down on the bed. "This is a toothbrush," he said. "And I assume you already saw the shower available in the bathroom." She was surprised by the matter-of-factness of his tone. "A Gotsumon will be standing guard. If you need to go to the bathroom at any time, he will escort you."

The Gotsumon in question saluted, scurrying out of the cell to stand at attention with his back turned to the bars.

Miyako's jaw dropped.

Finally, the Kaiser gave one of his signature smirks. "You expected me to let you live like an animal?"

She tried to stop her voice from trembling. "I didn't have any reason not to," she said.

"I was just giving you some time to reflect on your situation."

She felt her eyes burning again, but didn't even have the energy to cry. "So that I could realize what an enormous idiot I am?" Standing up shakily, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Because you didn't need to wait; I've known that for a long time already." She walked over to the bed to find a tray resting in the center of it. She suddenly felt very dirty. "Will you give me the privilege of changing into clean clothes at some point?"

When she looked at him again, his mouth was twisted slightly downwards. "Since you asked so nicely, yes."

"Thanks," she said. "Um..." She sat down on the bed, which was surprisingly soft, and pulled the tray towards her. "Would it be too much trouble for you to leave? I don't think I can eat with you here." She suspected she might end up throwing something mushy at his face.

"I have no desire to watch you eat."

"Great. It's a win-win situation."

Perhaps it was her imagination, but a new tension seemed to have entered the cell. The Kaiser did not leave. "I do hope you remember that it's your own fault that you're here."

"That's funny," said Miyako, doing her best to keep her tone of voice from becoming too abrasive. "I don't remember locking _myself_ into a freezing prison cell."

The Kaiser bristled. "If you aren't willing to face the prospect of defeat, then you shouldn't be fighting in the first place."

It took every ounce of her self control not to throw the tray of food at him. She supposed it was almost a good thing that she was so hungry. "Well gee, thanks for pointing that out," she said, with saccharine sweetness. "I'll definitely bear that in mind that next time I decide to do the right thing." She forced herself to smile as brightly as she could muster. "Now, can you please leave me alone, Digimon Kaiser-sama?"

He sighed, the way one might at an insolent child, then said, "Goodnight, then."

Once she was alone, Miyako began to eat in earnest. It was omurice, seasoned to perfection with lots of veggies, a perfectly fluffy omelette, and pieces of squid that were cooked just well enough that they weren't too chewy.

She wasn't sure what to make of this sudden display of decency. Could it mean that the Kaiser intended to keep her here indefinitely? She had no doubt that he was a big enough jerk to do something like that. What did he care if she missed all of her exams and ended up taking summer classes, her academic prospects ruined forever?

At least Hawkmon was still safely back in the Real World. The thought of what the Kaiser might've done if her partner had been captured too made her feel vaguely nauseous.

So much so that she had to push the thought forcefully aside in order to keep eating.

After she was done, she asked the Gotsumon guard to escort her to the bathroom, where she found a set of plain gray pajamas folded neatly upon a metal stool, though no underwear to speak of. She wondered if there was some ulterior motive behind this absence - perhaps yet another way to humiliate her. Or maybe it was just an oversight.

After she had stepped out of the shower and gotten dressed in the baggy but delightfully comfortable pajamas, she set to work washing her bra and panties in the bathroom's large sink using soap and warm water, and hung them out to dry on the towel rack. It wasn't ideal by any stretch of the imagination, but it was better than nothing.

Really, it could have been much worse. This was the mantra she kept repeating to herself as she curled up in her new bed, hugging her knees to her chest.


	2. Chapter 2

When she woke up, she didn't know what time it was. After all, there was no daylight in the cellblock - only the glow of luminescent panels. She had never really considered how disconcerting it could be, not knowing whether it was night or day. Was this how people felt in parts of the world where there was no sunlight for months on end? She could see how it could drive a person crazy.

She threw back the covers. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she was pretty sure that the heat had been turned up. Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised her. Trust the Kaiser to change the thermostat once she was already bundled up in heavy blankets and thick pajamas.

Miyako had always been a fitful sleeper, and liked to sprawl her limbs out to take up the whole of the bed. Moreover, her go-to solution for being overheated like this was to kick off her pajama bottoms. She figured that the Gotsumon guard was probably still there, but its back would be turned. And anyway, Digimon didn't really have genders, so it's not like it could get the wrong idea.

So, off came the pajama bottoms. She sighed in pleasure at the feeling of relatively cool air hitting her warm skin.

That is, of course, until she felt the cooler air hitting a rather sensitive part of her anatomy a bit more directly than she had been expecting. And then, a certain somebody cleared his throat pointedly.

Miyako sat up at lightning speed, pulling the covers over her legs with shaking hands. Blood rushed to her face, and she fumbled for her glasses. Sure enough, the Kaiser was standing outside of the cell.

"Were you..." she began, swallowing past the harsh dryness of her throat. "Were you watching me sleep?!"

"Of course not," the Kaiser said, though something in his tone was different from usual. And even with the dark glasses obscuring most of his face, Miyako could see that he was blushing beet red. "I wouldn't-" He swallowed visibly. "That would be completely inappropriate."

"Oh god." Miyako put her head in her hands in order to cover up her own blush. "Please tell me this is a dream."

"I'll...uh...get you some breakfast."

She heard him walking away through the pounding in her ears, and then coming back some time later. She was so mortified that she didn't even care how hungry or thirsty she was.

The cell door opened.

"...You're probably hungry," said the Kaiser.

Miyako looked up, still blushing, and found that he was holding the tray of food himself. "Why didn't you just send one of your slaves?"

He didn't answer as he held the tray out for her to take, and she did so without pressing the issue further. She went for the water first, gulping down most of it within a few seconds. By the time she was finished, she was ready to get started on the food.

But the Kaiser still hadn't left.

"Um..." she began, the awkwardness doing little to make the blush go away. "Is there something you want to say?"

As always, Miyako couldn't be sure of the exact expression upon the Kaiser's face. All she knew was that he appeared to be very uncomfortable. After several moments of awkward silence, however, he finally said, "I'm sorry."

"...Excuse me?"

"Do I really need to repeat myself?"

She frowned. "I guess I just wanted to make sure that I wasn't hallucinating."

The Kaiser crossed his arms. "I should have made sure that you were fully clothed before coming in. I was mistaken in not having consideration for your privacy. So I apologize for my lack of foresight."

Miyako marveled at how he could even make an _apology_ sound so condescending. "Okay, so let me get this straight: you insult me, my friends, and my family. And that doesn't warrant an apology. You sent digimon who fling _garbage_ after me and Mimi-neesan, and _that_ doesn't warrant an apology." Her eyebrows drew together in disbelief. "In the end, what finally makes you feel the need to apologize is accidentally catching a glimpse of me without any panties on?" She shook her head slightly. "I don't know if anybody has ever told you this before, but...you're strange." Being so strange herself, Miyako felt like she was a good judge of such things.

She was half expecting the Kaiser to go into one of his infamous temper tantrums. But all he said was, "Maybe I am."

Miyako couldn't help herself; she began to giggle uncontrollably. The whole situation was so silly and awkward that she couldn't help herself.

The Kaiser, it seemed, did not share her amusement. "I don't see what's so funny."

That only made her giggle harder. "It's just so weird," she said at last, catching her breath and wiping at her eyes. "The Digimon Kaiser just brought me breakfast in bed, and I still haven't put any pants on!" She burst into another fit of laughter.

Once again, the Kaiser blushed beet red, taking note of the grey pajama pants still crumpled next to the bed. "You mean that you're still-?" He cut himself off, turning his head to the side slightly. Miyako guessed that he was averting his eyes.

Miyako tried to suppress a grin. "I'm covered up, Ichijouji-kun. You don't have to protect my modesty."

But his head didn't move. "I'm not bringing you breakfast in bed," he insisted.

"I mean, you brought me breakfast, and I'm still in bed..."

"That's just a coincidence!" he snapped. He cleared his throat and turned his head to face her again - though he looked pointedly at the wall behind her. "I actually came here to tell you that I'm setting you free."

This caught Miyako off guard. "...Eh?"

His expression turned sour. "It seems that your friends decided to make a concerted effort to rescue you, and they managed to somehow retrieve your Digivice unscathed."

She was tempted to make some snide remark, but she held her tongue.

"As such, keeping you here any longer would be completely pointless."

"So...that's it. You're just letting me go?"

"Yes," he said.

Miyako still couldn't believe it, though; it was all just a bit too convenient. "This isn't a some kind of sick mind-game, is it?"

She couldn't be sure, but she had a feeling that the Kaiser rolled his eyes. "No. I really am letting you go."

"Um, okay," said Miyako, still not sure whether or not to trust him.

"I'll have an Airdramon fly you down to a Digital Gate. I've already messaged your friends with the coordinates." He pulled out her D-Terminal and handed it to her. It felt strange, taking it from him so easily, especially after the events of the previous day.

He began to leave, and, before she could stop herself, Miyako blurted out, "Thank you." Because, even as ridiculous as she knew it was, she really did feel gratitude.

The Kaiser paused his exit for a moment. "Don't misunderstand - you're nothing but an eyesore, and I'll be happy to be rid of you."

It was almost too cliche - like a line out of an anime. She forced herself not to say anything, though, and the Kaiser finally made his exit.

He kept his word.

* * *

The Kaiser's gaze was intense as he watched Miyako fly upon one of his Airdramon slaves. He knew that it was a sacrifice, since she and her friends would no doubt free it once she was with them again. But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to care all that much.

He felt strange.

Memories of the past day kept repeating over and over again in his mind. Not the incident from that morning, which made him blush whenever he thought of it, but subtler details: the way her eyes had flashed when she was angry, in particular. It made his stomach twist with something akin to excitement, and he had no earthly idea as to _why_.

All he knew for certain was that he wanted to see her like that again. He wanted to make her _squirm._

Already, half-formed plans were emerging amidst the scenes stuck on replay, and a sinister smile played upon his lips.

Oh yes, he thought, feeling that odd excitement stir. She thought that it was over, but she had no idea just how very wrong she was.

* * *

"Okay, I still don't get it. Why the heck did you go to the Digital World alone?"

Miyako sighed. "I don't know. I was stressed, and I needed to be alone. I..." God, she felt like an idiot. "I wasn't thinking."

"No shit," said Daisuke. "You're supposed to be _smart_."

Under normal circumstances, Miyako would have started shouting at him. But she felt much too guilty. "I know," she said. "I'm really sorry."

"Maybe you should lay off a little, Daisuke-kun," said Hikari, putting a hand on his shoulder. She then turned to Miyako. "We were all really worried about you, Miyako-san. Please don't do something like this again."

Miyako nodded solemnly, hugging Poromon tightly to her chest. "I've definitely learnt my lesson."

Daisuke pouted, mumbling, "You owe me and Chibimon a million liters of ice-cream."

"Yeah," agreed Chibimon. "A _million_."

"Right, I get it. Tomorrow, I'll treat everyone to ice-cream."

All the Digimon made noises of approval.

They all left the computer lab and walked to their respective apartments, although Takeru lingered behind Miyako and Iori so that he could speak with Hikari. This meant that Miyako found herself walking home with an Iori who she knew from experience to be in a very bad mood.

"Please don't still be angry with me," she said, once the awkward silence had become unbearable.

"I'm not angry with you, Miyako-san."

"Then why are you pretending that I'm invisible?"

"You're misunderstanding, Miyako-san."

"I'm not misunderstanding; you always pull this routine when you're angry about something. If you have something to say, just say it already!"

Iori stopped walking, his mouth pulled into a thin line. There was an extended pause, and then, "I don't live far from you."

Miyako stopped as well. "And?" she pressed, feeling a little anxious. She hated it when Iori was angry with her.

"And, if you need a break from people..." A frown. "Now that it's just Mother and I, it's been quiet."

Miyako's eyes widened in understanding, and she felt the guilt flare in her abdomen, stronger than before. Iori's grandfather had died of a heart attack the previous year, and the young man had been completely devastated. The funeral was the last time she could remember him showing any kind of strong emotion, and she had become so wrapped up in her own problems that she had completely lost sight of the fact that he was still grieving.

Iori continued. "Better to come to my apartment than to go to the Digital World, even if you want to be alone. Mother works late, so you'd have the living room to yourself."

Miyako bit her bottom lip, feeling her eyes burn with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Iori-kun. I've been so selfish."

He shook his head. "I understand how much stress you've been under. I just wish that you could rely on me a little more."

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she said, "Of course. Next time, I'll remember."

Iori looked at her directly for the first time since she had been released, and gave her a small smile. "Thank you."

They began to walk again, but, this time, the silence was comfortable.

* * *

Miyako was thankful to find that her fellow Chosen Children had taken the liberty of explaining her day-long absence. According to the story, she had gone over to Hikari's place so that they could study together, and had come down with a cold while there. Her parents and siblings had accepted this explanation to an extent, but that didn't mean that they were happy about it.

"Well _of course_ you're going to get sick if you go out in the middle of the night like that," her mother admonished. "I don't understand how you could do that without even asking me first."

Miyako was tempted to defend herself, but she knew from years of experience that it wouldn't do her any good. So she picked up a pillow from the sofa she was sitting on and hugged it to her chest, hoping that it would relieve some of the tension building up inside.

"Your grades have been slipping," her mother continued. "That was fine back in elementary school, but now you have to buckle down." Her mother sighed. "This is probably our own fault, for going so easy on you when you were younger. I mean, you did so well in middle school. I don't know what happened between now and then that's made you become so lazy." She huffed. "High school is _expensive_ , you know, and if you're not going to work hard then I'm not going to keep paying for it. You can drop out and work full-time in the store."

Miyako squeezed the pillow so tight that she was afraid it would split at the seams.

"I don't buy that you went over to that girl's apartment to study. You must think that I'm some kind of idiot - that I don't know that you spend most of your time playing silly games on the computer."

"That's not..." Miyako trailed off. What was she supposed to say? _Actually, Mom, I spend most of my spare time fighting some weirdo megalomaniac in another world._ Yeah right.

"See? You can't even deny it." Her mother sat down beside Miyako on the sofa, and her anger dissipated somewhat. "Both of your sisters decided to work instead of going to high school, Miyako, and they're both happy. But you say you want to go to university, so it's your responsibility to make it happen. I don't even know if your father and I can afford to send you." Her mother's eyes were weary, but not unkind. "You may have to get a part-time job and start saving, if this is what you really want. It's time for you to start acting like an adult."

Miyako released the pillow, suddenly feeling very tired. "Right," she said. "I need to act like an adult. Can I go to my room now?"

The tightening around her mother's mouth was a good indication that Miyako was in for yet another tongue lashing. But all she got was, "Fine. Make sure that you get enough rest today, because you're not missing school tomorrow."

Miyako padded across the carpet of their living room and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Walking up to her twin-sized bed, she stooped down and whispered, "It's alright to come out now, Poromon."

The ball of pink feathers shuffled out from under her bed and bounced into her arms. "Was your mother very upset?"

Miyako groaned and stood up, only to collapse backwards onto her bed. "That's putting it lightly."

"I'm not surprised," said Poromon. "You should have heard how frantic she was this morning when she discovered your absence. If not for the others, she may have even called in the police."

Miyako ran her hands through his feathers; they were downy and soft, and made her feel a bit more calm. "That's not the only thing she's mad about."

"Is she still being hard on you for your schoolwork?"

"She's given me an ultimatum: get good grades or get a job." She rolled over, the bedspread rustling beneath her, and hugged Poromon closer. "I don't know what to do, Poromon. As long as that jerk is still in the Digital World, I have to keep on fighting. But I feel like I have to choose between fighting and my future."

"If going to university is really so important to you, then perhaps you should take a break from fighting."

Miyako smiled sadly. "You know that I can't do that, Poromon."

"I know, but I wouldn't hold it against you, and I don't think the others would, either."

Miyako released him from her arms and pushed herself off the bed, rising to her feet. She then walked over to her desk, sat down, and turned on her computer.

Since she finally had the opportunity to get some studying in, she figured that she might as well take advantage of it.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days passed by without much incident. Insofar as the regular slog of fighting enslaved digimon and taking out Dark Towers didn't count as incidents, she supposed. It was a testament to just how weird her life had become since she'd learned she was a Chosen Child.

When the pattern became too regular, Miyako started to get antsy.

It was only a matter of time before the Kaiser decided to spice things up a bit, after all, and Miyako had a really bad feeling that it was going to happen soon. Spending that much time out of sight almost certainly meant that the Kaiser was plotting something.

She tried not to think about this too much as she shouted her customary "Digital gate open!" with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

The group of them arrived in the Digital World, and set out on the day's mission. They were in an arid, hilly area with sparse vegetation. It was surprisingly chilly, in spite of the cloudless sky, and they were almost immediately assaulted by a gust of cold wind. Miyako hugged herself against the chill, and, not for the first time, cursed the Digital World for its unpredictable weather patterns.

"Alright," said Takeru, looking down at the grid on his D-Terminal. "The Dark Tower should be around here, and it's a pretty isolated one."

"We should probably expect a lot of resistance," said Iori. "If the Dark Tower is isolated, it probably means that this a strategically significant area."

"Aw, come on," chimed Daisuke. "I think you're thinking too much about this stuff. I have a feeling that this is gonna be a piece of cake."

Miyako didn't agree, and wasn't inclined to keep quiet about it. "Don't be stupid, Daisuke. The Kaiser's been laying low for days, and you just know that means he's up to something. The fact that this Tower only popped up recently probably means that we're in for some kind of ambush."

It occurred to her that she probably should have thought of this sooner, when, as if on cue, sinister laughter began to echo around them. "How astute of you," said a mocking, familiar voice. "Really, I'm impressed."

Miyako turned around with her companions to see the Kaiser standing atop one of the steeper hills.

"Or I would be," continued the Kaiser, "if you hadn't actually fallen straight into it."

Daisuke snarled and lunged forward, pumping his fist into the air. "Oh yeah? Well, we aren't afraid of your stupid ambushes!"

"Yeah!" agreed V-mon, jumping forward himself.

Miyako started to smile in spite of herself, and went up to join them. "That's right, you jerk! We just know that you'll never be able to beat us!"

The Kaiser's smirk only widened. "Really? Why don't we put that hypothesis to the test?" And then, his face became deadly serious. "Flymon!"

They were suddenly greeted with the ominous sound of buzzing.

None of them wasted any time, and their partners were soon evolving after staggered cries of "Digimental up!". Halsemon lifted off from the ground with a push if his powerful legs, and Miyako cried, "Make that jerk eat his words!" after him.

She glared up at the Kaiser, who was shouting something that she couldn't hear over the noise of combat. But now Kuwagamon were joining the fray. The Flymon began to concentrate their _Deadly Sting_ s on Nefertimon, Pegusmon, Digmon and Fladramon, and it suddenly dawned on her that Halsemon was singlehandedly fending off three Kuwagamon.

Miyako opened her mouth to ask for backup, when she realized that it was impossible. The other four Digimon were not in mortal danger so long as they stuck together to fend off the Flymon, who were swarming around them like the insects that they were. And although some of them were already freed from their dark rings, there were still more who weren't. The minute that even one of their partner Digimon decided to go help Halsemon, the other three would undoubtedly become overwhelmed.

Halsemon was on his own.

Turning back to the Kaiser, she could swear that he was looking down at her, his smirk having returned a vengeance. He confirmed her suspicions when he pointed in Halsemon's direction, his smirk warping into a positively sinister grin.

She whirled around to find that Halsemon was being hit with a barrage of _Scissor Arms_ , and her stomach plummeted to her feet as she watched him devolve into Hawkmon, falling, unconscious, into the pincered grasp of one of the Kuwagamon slaves.

"Hawkmon!" she called, and tried to climb up the hill. But it was too steep, with rocks much too sandy to provide a decent foothold. Soon, she found herself flat on her butt, looking up helplessly as the Kuwagamon flew over to its master.

The Kaiser climbed onto one of the Kuwagamon's backs, but not before giving her a mocking wave. And then he was flying away. Miyako looked over to the other Chosen Children, who were too preoccupied with their own battle to notice. Not that she blamed them.

The fight went on for several more minutes, and Miyako waited patiently for it to end. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel, but, right then, she felt numb. Did that make her a bad person?

The fight was finally over when enough of the Flymon had been freed, allowing Digmon to break away from the group and take out the Dark Tower. And the partner Digimon devolved as the now-free Flymon flew off into the distance. Hikari was the first of the other Chosen Children to notice that something was wrong with her friend.

Miyako felt a hand on her shoulder, which shook her out of her reverie.

"Are you alright?" asked Hikari.

Miyako shook her head slowly. "He got Hawkmon."

"You mean...he was captured?"

Miyako nodded.

Daisuke had apparently overheard their exchange. "What are we waiting for, then?" he demanded. "Let's chase after him!"

Miyako felt her temper flare. "He's already long gone, you idiot!"

"We won't get anywhere if we don't at least try!" Daisuke yelled back.

The numbness was being replaced by a helplessness that made Miyako want to rip out her hair. "That jerk had this all planned out," she said. "We'd just be wasting our time."

Iori joined them, now, Armadimon in tow. "Miyako-san is right," he said. "We have no idea where he went, and I can't see any visible trail to follow." He frowned. "We're just going to have to wait and see what he plans to do with Hawkmon."

"But once we know," chirped Armadimon, "I'm sure we'll figure out a way to help him, dagya."

Miyako's eyes were starting to burn.

"Miyako-san..." said Hikari, letting go of her shoulder. "I promise that we'll do everything we can to get him back."

Miyako took a deep, labored breath. "I'm going home," she said. "I'll just be a burden if I stay." She didn't wait for a reply as she walked back towards the Digital Gate.

* * *

After having arrived back at her apartment, she tried to do some studying, but found it impossible to focus through the immense worry that had settled in her abdomen. She then tried to watch some television, which proved equally fruitless. She could at least take some solace in the fact that the next day was Sunday, which meant that she wouldn't have to worry about school, as well.

Collapsing on her bed in frustration, she wished desperately that she had Poromon to cuddle. But Poromon wasn't there, and she felt her eyes burning for the second time that day.

She hated the fact that she could be such a crybaby sometimes. She wanted to be stronger.

After laying on the bed for what seemed like an eternity, she finally managed to fall asleep, foregoing lunch and dinner altogether. She was awoken, however, by the beeping of her D-terminal.

Opening her eyes blearily, she rolled over and winced. She had forgotten to take her glasses off, and they had been digging into the bridge of her nose. She could feel that there was a patch of skin that had been rubbed raw over the course of her sleep, and did her best to ignore the stinging. The alarm clock on her bedside table was blinking **12:00 AM** in bright red letters; she groaned. Who the heck was contacting her at this time of night?

She stumbled out of bed and went over to her desk, where the D-terminal gave another insistent beep. Picking it up with clumsy fingers, she opened it, preparing herself to write an angry message back to the person who had dared to interrupt her slumber.

But the content of the message made her pause.

**Inoue-san,**

**If you ever want to see your Digimon again, come to the following coordinates. Come alone, or I will kill the Digimon without hesitation.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

She felt sick to her stomach. With shaking hands, she barely managed to type out,

**How are you able to access my D-terminal?**

**\- Miyako**

The reply came within seconds.

**I made some modifications to it.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

That made sense, she thought. She should have suspected that he'd done something to it while it had been in his possession. For a moment, she considered contacting one of the other Chosen Children to help her. But she realized that she just couldn't take the risk. Even if the Kaiser decided to break his promise anyway, she didn't have any choice but to take him at his word. She wrote,

**I'll be there as soon as I can.**

**\- Miyako**

Because most of the Chosen Children went to different high schools, Koushiro and her had devised a method of accessing the Digital World from any computer, just in case of an emergency. The only time that she had used it, however, was the night that she had been captured by the Kaiser. Now, it looked like she had no choice but to use it again.

She sat down her computer and opened the software that acted as the Digital Gate. After programming in the coordinates that the Kaiser had sent her, she whispered, "Digital Gate open," and found herself standing in a clearing.

The night air was more than a little chilly, and, for the second time that day, she found herself shivering in the cold.

She heard heavy footsteps, and turned around to find a red-eyed Ogremon emerging from the mouth of a cave. She swallowed, and her heart rate accelerated. Ogremon were a particularly nasty-looking kind of Digimon.

"Master says he's giving you a challenge," said the Ogremon, lobbing his club onto his shoulder. "If you beat it, he'll consider giving your Digimon back."

Right. He'd _consider_ it. God, she wanted to punch him.

"What kind of challenge?"

The Ogremon let out a sound that was some kind of cross between a chuckle and a growl. "You go into the cave. If you manage to make it out the other side in two hours, you get a prize."

"And if I don't?"

The Ogremon let out another chuckle-growl. "Then you get a penalty."

Of course, she thought. And it was probably something really nasty. _Like Hawkmon dying_ , said a treacherous little voice in the back of her mind.

She couldn't let that happen under any circumstances. With that thought in mind, she walked into the cave.

She'd find a way to beat this thing. Somehow.

* * *

The Kaiser knew that she would come, and he felt a twisted amusement at the obvious worry on her face. There was little doubt in his mind that her reactions would become even more amusing over the course of his little "challenge".

He didn't understand why his opponents were so attached to their so-called 'partners', but it certainly made them easy to manipulate.

He chuckled as she entered the cave, unaware that she was undertaking a fool's errand. This wasn't the kind of maze that had clues guiding you on the correct path-it all depended on luck. Still, determination had now replaced the worry, and he typed in the command for his surveillance system to zoom in on her face.

There was that spark in her eyes-the one that made him feel strange when he had seen it before. A part of him wanted to simply sit and stare at those eyes, but a much larger part of him knew just how strange that particular impulse was. Just looking at her was enough to make him feel awkward in his own skin, and he resented it.

But it was with great reluctance that he gave the instruction to zoom out once more, giving him a complete view of the dimly illuminated cavern. He had instructed his slaves to set up the lighting, since he wanted to be able to see what was going on for himself. Anyway, his intention wasn't to give his opponent any broken limbs.

He watched her intently for the next hour, thoroughly enjoying the way the mounting frustration was permeating everything that she did. She had taken to muttering to herself, and her hand would occasionally twitch to the D-terminal that was stuffed in one of her pockets. _"No way am I giving that jerk the satisfaction,"_ she said aloud, after perhaps the third time of doing this, and the Kaiser grinned.

She certainly would.

After another five minutes had passed on the clock that was located in the corner of his screen, he could see that she was finally reaching her breaking point. She leaned back against one of the damp cave walls and slid down, pulling her knees up to her chin.

It was then that she finally pulled out her D-terminal. Soon, there was a message alert in the other corner of his screen, and he opened it with immense satisfaction.

**You've set me up to lose, haven't you?**

**\- Miyako**

He typed,

**Think of it as if it's a game of roulette. In the end, it all comes down to chance.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

He could see the way she snarled as she read it. She typed the next message much more vigorously.

**What are the odds?**

**\- Miyako**

It seemed that she was all business today. He was almost disappointed.

**Are you sure you want to know?**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

It took her longer to reply this time.

**Will you kill Hawkmon if I don't win?**

**\- Miyako**

Truthfully, that wasn't part of his plan. The Hawkmon was much more valuable to him alive, after all, especially since he thought it would very amusing to watch his opponents try and fight one of their allied Digimon. Of course, Miyako didn't need to know that.

**That is a possibility.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

Her reaction was instantaneous; tears began to slide down her cheeks, although they weren't accompanied by the harsh sobs he'd heard the last time he'd seen her cry. The look of sheer misery on her face was more than enough to make up for the lack of noise, though, and, for the first time that night, the Kaiser felt the first stirrings of apprehension.

**Please don't kill him.**

**\- Miyako**

The Kaiser considered his reply carefully. He'd felt this odd mixture of excitement and guilt once before-when he'd forced the idiot "leader" of his opponents to choose which of his companions would get to live. He had known, then, that he had crossed a line, because these were real people he was toying with, not Digimon. But, at the same time, he had loved crossing that line. And, really, it wasn't like his enemies couldn't give up at any time. That was the beauty of the Digital World; there was a mutual, tacit understanding that this was a game where anything goes. It was just too bad that his opponents rarely capitalized on that fact. For them, at least.

That gave him an idea.

**I won't kill him, but only on one condition.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

She wiped her tears clumsily, then wrote,

**What is it?**

**\- Miyako**

Oh, this was going to be too good.

**If you give up now, and accept a harsher penalty, your Digimon will live.**

**If you decide to continue, and fail, your Digimon will die...in addition to the penalty. Of course, if you succeed, he'll be given back to you with no penalty at all.**

**I will give you three minutes to decide.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

Sniffling, she typed,

**How do I know that you'll stand by your word?**

**\- Miyako**

Even though she couldn't see him, the Kaiser just couldn't resist a sardonic smile.

**You have to trust me, I suppose.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

At that, she put down the D-terminal and buried her face in her knees. Not for long, however. She soon picked it up again.

Her reply was nothing short of delicious.

**I give up.**

**\- Miyako**

The Kaiser wrote, **Good choice,** and proceeded to give her instructions on how to escape from the labyrinth of caves she was trapped in. He was careful to give her instructions starting from the beginning; he didn't want her to suspect that he had been watching her the whole time. Once this was done, he stood up and made his way to the aerial wing of his base to get an Airdramon.

He had to exact his penalty, after all.

* * *

He had chosen the cave system partially because it wasn't far from the current location of his base, and he touched down in front of its "exit" within a few minutes, commanding the Airdramon to fly out of sight, but to remain within hearing range.

It took Miyako a few more minutes to emerge from the cave-it was a quick enough journey once you knew the correct path to take-and she froze when she caught sight of him.

"Hello," he greeted.

"Um...hi," she replied.

He walked forward so that he was only a step or two apart from her. She looked as if she wanted to back away, but she didn't. Was she afraid that he'd hurt the Hawkmon if she did?

"You must be anxious to find out what your penalty is," he said, moving closer still.

"Knowing you-" she spat the "you" as if it were some kind of curse, "-it's probably something awful."

Truth be told, he hadn't been sure what the penalty was going to be himself. There were so many things he could do, all of them incredibly tempting. But, right then, there was only one thing at the forefront of his mind-something that he'd honestly never considered before.

 _With good reason_ , came the unbidden thought, before he managed to silence it.

"That really depends on your definition of 'awful'." It was strange; he didn't like being touched, and yet...

Miyako crossed her arms. "Just say it already."

And then, before he could stop himself, he said, "I want you to kiss me."

Miyako's eyes went very wide. "...Excuse me?"

The Kaiser frowned. "I'm not in the mood for these games, Inoue-san." If they were going to be playing games, it was going to be on his terms.

She looked as if she wanted to snap back at him, but she held herself in check. Instead, she closed her eyes.

The Kaiser didn't move.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked. "Just get it over with already."

"I must not have made myself clear." He took one more step towards her. "I want _you_ to kiss _me_."

She opened her eyes, and he could see that her hands had curled into fists. "Why would you want an insect like me to come anywhere near somebody _perfect_ like you?" she said, practically growling the words.

The Kaiser felt his own temper flare. "Explaining myself wasn't part of our deal, now was it?"

The reminder of her position seemed to put a cap on her anger, and she deflated visibly. "I guess my feelings aren't part of it either, huh?"

"It's just a kiss, Inoue-san. The fact that you choose to find significance in something so meaningless is hardly my concern."

"You know," she said, closing the distance between them. They were now only centimeters apart. "I don't think I've ever really hated anybody before. I guess there really must be something special about you."

He hated the way those words stung, and refused to let it show. "I guess so," he said smoothly.

She was reaching up now, and it took him a moment to realize that she meant to remove his dark goggles. Catching her wrist, he said, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Her breath was caught momentarily in her throat. But then she said, "You don't need them to see, right? Our faces are about to be really close together, and I don't feel like having a head-on collision with my glasses."

That was certainly logic that he couldn't argue with; it sounded like something that would be quite painful. "Alright," he conceded, and let go of her wrist.

Gingerly, she removed the offending item, and the whole situation suddenly seemed like more of a big deal. Why else, thought the Kaiser, was his heart beating so fast?

Why else couldn't he bring himself to break eye contact?

"So," she asked, matter-of-factly, "What kind of kiss do want, Digimon Kaiser-sama?"

It took a surprising amount of effort to formulate a coherent sentence. "A real one."

She nodded with the determination of someone who had just been given the order to go off into battle. Then, she stood on her tip-toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his lips to hers with surprising tenderness.

The Kaiser's stomach was beginning to do flip-flops, and he felt like a cliché - like a clumsy, uncoordinated fool.

He felt...wonderful.

She was pushing her tongue against his lips, now, and he eagerly opened his mouth the accommodate her. He knew that this should have disgusted him, that he should have felt bile rising to the back of his throat. But this feeling was far removed from disgust. Unconsciously, his arms snaked around her waist, and he pulled her closer. He could feel the softness of her body, the warm, intimate caress of her tongue. He didn't want her to stop.

He didn't want it to end.

But end it did, with Miyako breaking away from him rather forcefully. He let go of her instinctively, and it took him a moment to regain his footing.

She was looking at him with _fear_ in her eyes, and she was pressing the back of her hand firmly against her mouth.

"My goggles," he said, holding out his hand. It seemed to be the right thing to say, because Miyako lowered her hand from her mouth, and tentatively handed him the desired item.

"Can I go now?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, more steadily now that his eye-wear was back in place. He wasn't sure that he meant it, but there was something deeply upsetting about the look on her face. He swallowed. "The nearest Digital Gate is the one you originally came through. I can have an Airdramon fly you there, if you like."

"Now that I know the way, I'll walk."

The Kaiser nodded, and watched as she walked away briskly, disappearing into the depths of the cave.

It was only once she was out of earshot that he managed to say, "Goodbye...Miyako-san."


	4. Chapter 4

Miyako found that she was much too restless to fall asleep. And it wasn't just because she had failed, though that was certainly bad enough. Without really thinking about it, she reached up and touched her lips - still slightly swollen from the kiss she'd shared with her sworn enemy.

Her first kiss.

Neither of them had been very good at it, obviously, due to shared inexperience. And yet, there had still been something _electric_ about it. Something that had addled Miyako's brain.

Her eyes clenched tightly shut in response to the shame that bolted upwards from her abdomen, and she curled reflexively into a fetal position. She had enjoyed kissing a person that had threatened the life of one of her dearest friends, and she was afraid to think about what that meant. About what kind of person that made her.

What had finally brought her back to her senses, enough to push him away, was the thought that he may have wanted even more. Maybe she could take some solace in the fact that it had terrified her. Still, she couldn't help but wonder...

If that had been his ultimate penalty, what would she have done?

* * *

"Woah," said Daisuke, when Miyako entered the computer lab the next day. "Did you get turned into a panda overnight or something?"

Miyako glared. "Well excuse me for having trouble sleeping after my _Digimon_ got captured, you jerk." Even though she had slept through most of the day before, not getting enough sleep at night would always take its toll on her. It had been hell, trying to keep herself awake during her classes.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" asked Hikari.

"I'm completely _fine_."

"Miss Panda here should stay behind anyway, since she doesn't have her Digimon," said Daisuke. Then, more somberly: "It's not like we don't want you to be there, but what are you gonna do without Hawkmon?"

Takeru smiled apologetically. "Daisuke-kun has a point, Miyako-san."

Iori nodded. "We'll all be forced to protect you, and that will make our own attacks less effective." He gave her a pointed look. "Even if it a bad situation, I'm sure you'll find a good way to use the time."

 _So losing Hawkmon gives me an opportunity to study? There's no way I can be happy about that._ Her brain-to-mouth filter was even less effective when she was this tired, and she opened that mouth to repeat this thought aloud. But then, a memory of the previous night-of her leaning in the kiss the Kaiser-flashed in her mind's eye.

Her mouth snapped shut abruptly, even as the desperate need to _tell them_ started to surface. Keeping secrets was one of her least favorite things in the world, but...

_There's no way that I can tell them. It will make them so angry that they'll definitely say something to the Kaiser. And then..._

She gulped. Hawkmon was more important than her guilty conscience. She sighed dejectedly.

"You're right. I should just go home." Koushiro would be arriving soon, and then they wouldn't need her for anything. She stood up and smiled wide. "Do your best, okay?"

"We will," everyone said together.

Miyako gave them all a thumbs-up and said, "Bingo!" Then, she walked briskly out of the computer room. She had to force herself not to think about Hawkmon, she decided-if all she did was sit around moping, he definitely would have scolded her.

* * *

Miyako wasn't with them that day. Understandable, given her lack of a digimon. She would've proven to be a burden if she'd tagged along.

It was disappointing, though. He'd been looking forward to seeing her reaction when she realized just how useless she'd become to her friends. Smirking, he wondered if she'd exploded at the Motomiya boy yet, as she had a habit of doing when she got very upset.

The night before, he had found himself compelled to look over footage of her that was still stored in his archive. He'd noticed her before, in an abstract sort of way. He'd watched the footage of her running from the Gokimon several times, in fact.

But it was different now. He found himself focusing on more than just her over-the-top reactions. Things like her smile, the slight frown she got when she was thinking, the way certain parts of her body moved when she was running...

He blushed furiously. even though he was alone, and felt shame twist in his gut. It was normal, he knew, for boys to look at girls - but he'd never felt much of a desire to do so before. He was supposed to be above such petty things. He was supposed to be _better_ than them.

She was just an insect like everybody else. No matter how soft she'd been when she was pressed up against him. Or how good she smelled.

He pushed those thoughts aside, sneering. He had no reason to feel ashamed. This was _his_ world, after all, and she had decided to come here voluntarily.

"Are you alright, Ken-chan?" asked Wormmon, looking up at the Kaiser with concerned blue eyes.

"Be quiet," replied the Kaiser tersely.

"Alright," said Wormmon. But he didn't move from his place beside the Kaiser's throne.

With a smirk returning to his lips, the Kaiser reached forward to press a button on his console. "I think I'll give them a challenge today."

Then the smirk fell away, and his gloved fingers went absentmindedly to his lips.

Tonight _,_ he thought. He'd see her again tonight.

* * *

Miyako was in the middle of a particularly frustrating calculus problem when she heard her D-terminal beeping. With a frown, she picked it up and flipped it open. It was probably just one of her friends checking up on her, but the beeping had interrupted her chain of thought.

**Meet me at these coordinates.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

Her eyes widened, and her stomach plummeted into her feet.

**I don't have time.**

**\- Miyako**

Of course, the Kaiser wouldn't care about something as trivial as her convenience.

**Don't try my patience.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

And, of course, she knew what was at stake if she _did_ try his patience. Reluctantly, she wrote,

**Fine. I'll be there in a few minutes.**

**\- Miyako**

She booted up her computer with mounting dread. She didn't know if she could handle another one of the Kaiser's sadistic games.

But...what choice did she have?

* * *

Miyako found herself at the entrance to a dense forest, with trees so tall that she had to crane her neck to see the tops of them. They cast long, ghostly shadows in the fading daylight, and her dread edged into full-blown panic.

"Don't keep me waiting again," said the Kaiser. He was leaning nonchalantly against one of the trees' massive trunks, and Miyako was surprised that he was meeting her in person.

"Just get it over with," she said, before she could stop herself. "I'm way too tired to chat."

The Kaiser smirked. "Get what over with?"

Miyako put her hands on her hips. "Whatever sick game you've got in mind, obviously."

He stood upright and walked towards her. "What makes you think that I'd do anything so predictable?" Grabbing her gently by the wrist, he said, "Follow me."

"Hey!" She yelled, even as she allowed herself to be pulled along. "What's the big idea?"

"Telling you would ruin the surprise," said the Kaiser.

"What a load of crap," she all but growled. They were walking away from the forest rather than into it, and the grass was becoming taller. She could hear it crunching beneath her and the Kaiser's boots. But it soon started to thin, replaced by weeds and the occasional dandelion.

They stopped only a few moments later.

"Look up," instructed the Kaiser, and Miyako complied without protest.

Her breath caught in her throat.

They were standing near the edge of a steep cliff that stood above almost perfectly flat land. There was a field of red, turquoise, and pink flowers that led to the bank of a lake—so large that it seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon. The sun was dipping into the water, staining the ripples on the surface of the lake a hue of burnt orange.

"That's so pretty," she said.

"I know," agreed the Kaiser.

She shifted her gaze back to him. "Are you going to drop me off the edge, or something?"

His mouth twitched downwards. "Don't be stupid," he said. Then, he smirked. "Difficult, I know. But try your hardest."

Miyako huffed. "So you brought me here to sight-see and insult my intelligence. Got it."

He sat down, gesturing to the ground beside him. "We may be here for a while, so I suggest that you make yourself comfortable."

She sat down as well.

"I want to ask you some questions," he said.

"Really? That's it?"

"Yes."

Miyako looked out over the landscape before them. "So then why did you bring us _here_?"

"Because it has a nice view," he said, as if it was obvious.

Well, it was kind of obvious, now that she thought about it. She sighed. "Ask away, then," she said, but quickly gave him a glare. "Just don't expect me to say anything that will help you hurt my friends in any way."

"Do you even _have_ any long-term plans worth revealing?"

She had nothing to respond with, and her cheeks colored in embarrassement.

"That's what I thought."

She sniffed. "It's not like your plans are all that great."

"Not from your perspective. But there's one question you and your comrades never seem to ask yourselves."

"And what's that?"

Even though he was wearing his goggles, Miyako still felt unnerved by the shift in his expression. "What if I'm going easy on you?"

He wasn't wrong; she hadn't ever asked herself that question. And its implications disturbed her. "But…why would you be going easy on us?"

"I wonder…" he replied, a small, sinister smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Now, if you'll recall, I want to ask _you_ questions."

"Right," said Miyako, somewhat apologetically. "I'll shut up."

There was a pause, as if the Kaiser was gathering his thoughts. And then, "How does it feel to know that your friends are unable to depend on you?"

"It hurts," she replied, before she could even think about the answer. "I mean, it's not like fighting is my favorite thing in the world. I hate it, actually. But I hate the thought of my friends getting hurt even more."

"If you hate fighting so much, then why do you even come here in the first place?"

Miyako frowned. "I don't exactly have a choice."

"Of course you have a choice," said the Kaiser matter-of-factly.

"No," she said, her temper starting to rise. "I _don't_ have a choice. Do you really think that I can just sit around doing nothing while I know that innocent digimon are being hurt?"

"Ridiculous," sneered the Kaiser.

"It's not ridiculous — you'll just never be able to understand!"

Suddenly, the Kaiser was much, much closer. "And why is that?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.

Miyako's heart began to beat much faster, and, when she spoke next, it was much more quietly. "Because you don't care about anyone but yourself."

There was silence for a moment, and Miyako was sure that she had crossed some kind of line. But then the Kaiser moved back into his original position. "I don't care about insects, if that's what you mean."

She made a derisive sound. "You're impossible." It was too difficult to look at him without getting worked up, so she concentrated on the darkening surface of the lake. "Having a superiority complex isn't something to brag about, Ichijouji-kun."

"It's not a 'complex' when the superiority is objectively true," he shot back.

She rolled her eyes. "You're just an ape like the rest of us," she pointed out. "And you still live on one tiny planet, in just one galaxy out of an uncountable number of galaxies, each with billions and billions of planets, in a universe that's probably infinite." Unconsciously, her eyes drifted up to the few stars that were starting to appear in the sky. Did they represent the Digital Worlds of other planets, of other _universes_? Or were they just a simulation of the stars from the Real World? "We're all so small that it's stupid to pretend like any one of us is more important."

The Kaiser didn't respond for a moment. "If you're judging it on such an enormous scale, then I can't really argue with you," he finally said. "But I think it's fairly obvious that not all of us apes are equal." He gave her a half-smile.

She blinked in surprise. Had the Kaiser just acknowledged something she'd said?

"If I were to hazard a guess," he continued, "It seems as though you use existentialism as a means of rationalizing your own inadequacies."

Miyako glared at him. "You're such a jerk," she snapped.

There was a pause, which gave Miyako enough time to regret the outburst. And then he said, "This conversation is getting tiresome."

At a loss for words, she waited for him to continue.

He reached up and put a hand on his goggles. "What would you do if I asked you to kiss me again?" he asked softly.

Miyako's eyes went wide. "Please don't," she said, just as softly.

Taking off the glasses, he said, "Fine. I won't." And then, before she had an opportunity to react, he was kissing her.

For a moment, all she could think was: _he's gotten better at this._ The kiss was surprisingly gentle, and he began to weave his gloved fingers into her hair, cupping her face between his hands. It lasted only a short while, but his face lingered in front of hers after he'd broken it, his arms moving to encircle her shoulders.

He pulled her closer so that his mouth was right by her ear. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Those words were more than enough to break whatever spell Miyako had been under, but she found herself unable to struggle against his hold. There was no way that he could want _that_ , was there? She felt herself begin panic - that old, familiar tightening in her chest, with the not-quite-nausea and pounding heart. Her thoughts were racing.

"Please let go," she begged, hating how feeble she sounded. "Please don't do this."

At that, he pulled back. "Do what?" he asked, voice flat.

Despite her best efforts, she could feel her eyes beginning to burn. "Don't—" She swallowed hard. "Don't play dumb. We're alone and you're stronger than me, and…and it's not like I could stop you."

Realization dawned in those blue eyes of his—it really was so much easier to read him without those dark glasses obscuring his eyes—but it was soon replaced with…horror?

"I would _never_ do that," he said, eyes wide.

"Yeah," said Miyako, giving a short, hysterical laugh. "You'd _never_ make somebody do something against their will, right?"

He stood up abruptly, looking down at her with incredulity. "It's not the same and you know it."

She looked away from him, and her heart-rate finally started to slow. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Digimon Kaiser-sama."

"…Did you really hate it that much?" Then, more softly, "Do you really hate _me_ that much?"

"I guess an insect like me just can't help it," she said, voice thick with sarcasm. "You're just so much _better_ than me. How can I do anything _but_ hate you?"

There was a very long beat.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Inoue-san."

She heard him walking away, but didn't move for quite a while. It was only once she was sure that he was gone that she stood up and walked towards the Digital Gate.

All she could do when she got back to her room was collapse in her bed—she couldn't even muster the strength to get up and brush her teeth. Lying there, it didn't take long for her eyes to droop closed, but, even then, only one thought seemed to resonate through her mind.

What the hell had just happened?


	5. Chapter 5

" _Whatever helps you sleep at night, Digimon Kaiser-sama."_

The Kaiser sat in his throne, head tilted downwards. Miyako's words were still fresh in his mind, and there was a sick feeling in the pit of stomach—one that he couldn't quite indentify.

Those vibrant eyes, looking at him as if he was disgusting. As if he was worthy of nothing but disdain.

How dare she, he thought halfheartedly, recalling the way that she had all but recoiled away from him.

How dare she—

He swallowed thickly.

How could she even think that he'd do something so awful?

There were some lines that even the Kaiser was not willing to cross. He played games with them, true, but surely they knew-surely, they _had_ to know-that he wasn't going to really hurt them. So what if he mistreated the Digimon? They weren't even _real_. And, even if his opponents were nothing more than insects...

He was struck by the memory of his mother sobbing at Osamu's funeral, harsh and broken, like the world had come to an end.

He stopped that train of thought before it could go any further, reminding himself why he came to the Digital World in the first place. He would spare no more concern for those unworthy of it. Why have any compassion for those beneath you? They only ever squandered it.

Wormmon scuttled up to him, his many legs making a distinctive clicking sound against the hard floor, and the Kaiser waited for the stupid creature to say something. He always had something inane and pointless that he thought worthy of sharing.

"Are you worried about something?" He asked.

The Kaiser sneered. "What could I possibly be worried about?"

Wormmon came closer, nuzzling Ken's leg. "Please don't be sad, Ken-chan."

With a snarl, the Kaiser kicked Wormmon off-hard enough that he slid several meters away. He then swiveled his chair to face the console, unsure if he was more annoyed at the worm, for his god-awful programming, or at himself, for allowing himself to react so strongly to a... _thing_. This feeling wasn't new. And, even though he loathed the creature and found his presence to be nothing but a nuisance, the Kaiser simply couldn't bring himself to destroy him.

In the end _,_ he thought,the only insects who showed compassion were the ones without any will of their own.

He reached forward to type, a lump forming in his throat. He thought about Miyako again - about the things she had said, and the way she had looked at him - and he was struck suddenly by an intense desire to do something to pacify her. If he was honest with himself, her conclusions hadn't been _entirely_ unfounded. She was obviously bringing it all on herself by defying him, but...

There were some things he'd done that had maybe gone a bit too far.

 **Miyako-san,** he began, then stopped. And, after staring at her name for a few too many seconds, he erased it, replacing it with, **Inoue-san.**

He stopped again, at a loss for how to continue. Then, taking a deep breath, he forced himself to write something.

**I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable. Please know that I would never hurt you in such a way, and that you have nothing of that nature to fear from me.**

He read it over, and found himself dissatisfied with almost everything about it. Frustrated, he erased it.

**Meet me at these coordinates at 8:00 PM. Don't be late.**

This time, he sent it before he had time to second-guess himself. He'd apologize properly face-to-face, he decided; he was no coward. But, in the back of his mind-the part where he kept all the most uncomfortable feelings locked away as tightly as he could-there was fear. Surely, he'd be able to maintain his composure even if she looked at him as if he were lower than dirt. Surely, next time...

_"Do you really hate me that much?"_

Next time, he wouldn't let the opinion of an insect affect him.

He still gave into the impulse to pull up one of his archived recordings, though, and the thought became quickly overshadowed by images of that same insect. He watched, then, as a past-Miyako smiled so wide that it made her cheeks dimple, her eyes sparkling with laughter, and tried to ignore the ache in his chest.

* * *

Miyako spent most of the next morning in a half-awake state. Her limbs felt heavy for some reason-maybe because she had spent the whole night in a light, dream-filled sleep. She couldn't remember any of them, but she had woken up having a mild panic attack. And the anxiety had yet to fully subside, sometimes causing her stomach to tighten uncomfortably at really inconvenient times. Still, she forced herself to concentrate during class, thanking her lucky stars that tomorrow was Sunday. Saturdays also meant shorter classes, which gave her hope that she may even have time to drop in on the other Chosen Childen.

Once the final bell for the day had rung, Miyako took out her D-terminal and flipped it open. She was planning to ask Iori where he and the others were meeting, since he was usually in-the-know about which computer lab (or, if need be, household computer) the Chosen were using on any given day. But then she noticed the message in her inbox, and the anxiety from earlier that morning returned with a vengeance.

She prayed that it was from somebody besides the Kaiser, even as she forced herself to open it.

**Meet me at these coordinates at 8:00 PM. Don't be late.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

No such luck. She stood there in the middle of the bustling corridor, the remnants of her good mood evaporating like ether on a blackboard, struggling mightily against the impulse to throw her D-terminal at a nearby wall. After a moment, however, she was jostled by a gaggle of chattering underclassmen, and forced herself to start walking again. The D-terminal went back into her bookbag.

She arrived to her apartment building in a daze, hardly remembering how she got there. And, without really realizing it, she headed over to Iori's apartment to see if he had gotten back from school yet. She rang the doorbell and waited.

It was opened. "Good afternoon, Miyako-san," said Iori, voice betraying his surprise.

"Hey," she said, still running on auto-pilot. "Can I come inside?"

Iori nodded and opened the door wider, and Miyako stepped into his apartment, kicking off her shoes. She followed him into the family room and sat down on the sofa. He remained standing. Meanwhile, she could hear Upamon making a racket in the kitchen

"Is something bothering you?" asked Iori, a slight frown causing his eyebrows to crease.

Miyako nodded without much conviction.

"Do you...want to talk about it?"

She sighed and looked at the floor, uncertain how to answer the question. Yes, she did want to talk about it. Had been wanting to, in fact, since the whole fiasco began. But now that she was actually in the situation to do so, she found herself terrified by what might happen if she did. And wasn't she being selfish, laying all her problems on Iori when he already had so many of his own to deal with? She looked over to where his father's shrine stood, taking in the picture of the man who looked so much like Iori. The man who was long gone.

She forced a smile on her face.

"You know what? It's nothing!" She stood up. "I should really get going, since I have a test coming up next week."

She made to leave, but stopped when Iori grabbed her by the wrist.

"Why are you lying?" he asked, and he sounded younger than he actually was. "I want to help you, Miyako-san. So...if there really is something wrong..." He let go of her wrist. "Please tell me."

She smiled again, this time genuinely. "Nothing's wrong, Iori-kun." It wasn't true, but it didn't matter. Even if she hated lying, it was better for his sake. "School is just stressing me out, and I miss Hawkmon."

"I see," he said, clearly not convinced.

Miyako bowed. "Well then, I'll get going. Good luck in the Digital World, and please say hi to the others for me." A part of her still wanted to see them herself, but she realized that it probably wasn't a good idea. She straightened and looked pointedly at the kitchen door. "You may want to clean up whatever mess Upamon is making in there, by the way."

"Yes." He bowed as well, and, when he straightened, he was smiling a smile small. "I told him to be careful, but you know how they can get."

"Yeah," she said, and wished that she knew for sure that Hawkmon was still alright. "See you later."

She left his apartment and headed back to hers, taking out her D-terminal when she was safely alone inside her room. Opening the Kaiser's message again, she wondered if she should even bother replying. After all, he would probably dismiss anything she said as trivial.

In the end, however, she couldn't stop herself.

**Please let me off the hook tonight. I have a lot of studying to do.**

**\- Miyako**

There, she thought. Being polite to him was so much easier over email, even when all she wanted to do was yell.

She was surprised to find that the reply came almost instantly, in spite of the fact that he'd send his initial message several hours beforehand.

**Don't make excuses.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

She seethed.

**It's not an excuse! I have a test coming up.**

**\- Miyako**

His reply was,

**It's only 1:35 PM. You will have more than enough time to study.**

**Unless you're an idiot, of course.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

She snapped the lid of the D-terminal shut, too angry to even think of a reply. Was this his way of punishing her for what she had said the day before?

In the end, it didn't really matter. And, with that thought in mind, she did her best to push the anger away and get started on studying.

* * *

She entered his new coordinates on her computer at 7:50 PM, deciding not to push her luck with the tardiness. As much as she would have liked to indulge in her desire for some kind of petty defiance, she sensed that to do so would put Hawkmon in unnecessary danger.

When she entered the Digital World, she found herself standing in front of a several large...computer screens? Yes, that's what they appeared to be. The room itself was almost entirely black, and the screens were glowing with white light.

"I see you've learned your lesson."

She looked to the side, and found the Kaiser sitting in a very regal-looking chair.

Her eyes widened slightly. "Is this your _base_?" she asked.

"How very perceptive," he replied, standing up. "Although I wouldn't get too excited: I can change the coordinates for it at will."

"Right," she said. She hadn't even processed the situation enough to really get excited about anything, but his admission made sense. Why else would he have felt secure in bringing her here?

He walked closer to her, but kept a distance of about a meter. "Follow me," he instructed, then lead her out of the room and into a long hallway. Everything seemed to be made of the same obsidian stone. After a short while, they came into a cavernous room with an enormous window taking up almost an entire wall. There was a full moon out, which gave off just enough light so that the scenery moving beneath them was visible. But the truly spectacular vision was that of the stars, which blanketed the night sky, shining brightly. Miyako had never really seen the night sky outside of a city.

She swallowed. "I don't know if I can do this again," she said, taking a few steps backwards.

The Kaiser sighed. "I won't make you do anything inappropriate." One of his fists clenched at his side. "Rather, if you tell me stop...I _will_ stop."

Frowning, Miyako said, "Why should I believe _anything_ that you say?"

At that, the Kaiser smirked. Perhaps a little bitterly. "It doesn't really matter if you believe me or not." But the expression was quickly gone. "Will you sit with me?" He sounded almost uncertain, which Miyako thought was laughable. He'd already made it perfectly clear that she didn't have a choice.

She walked over to the window and sat down in front of it, and the Kaiser followed shortly after. An awkward silence followed, stretching on for several minutes. It wasn't long before Miyako couldn't take it anymore.

"You're not big on chairs, huh?" She pulled her knees up to her chest.

He looked embarrassed, then let out a sigh. "Would you be more comfortable with a chair?"

She shook her head quickly. "Don't worry about it." She gave a short, derisive laugh. "I don't really think that _anything_ could make this situation more comfortable."

The Kaiser didn't share in her amusement, but, surprisingly, he didn't get angry. Softly, almost shyly, he said, "I'm sorry about yesterday."

Miyako didn't say anything, and the Kaiser continued. "I know that you don't want to be here. And I know that you resent the fact that I'm-" He swallowed visibly. "-I know that you resent this entire situation. But...I'm not going to hurt you."

Miyako looked at him, unsure of how to respond. All of her instincts were telling her that this was some kind of act-a ruse that he was putting on in order to lull her into a false sense of security. And yet...

"I don't understand you at all," she finally said, looking out to the stars. "It's obvious that you think I'm worthless, so why do you even bother apologizing?" She sighed. "Why do you even want me to be here in the first place?"

The Kaiser's expression became uglier. "You're right: I do think you're worthless."

Smiling bitterly, she said, "And you wonder why I think you're a terrible person." She looked at him, then, feeling a sick sort of thrill in the pit of her stomach. "If being a heartless jerk is what it takes to have worth, then I'll settle for being worthless."

The Kaiser was clearly glowering now. "If I were really heartless, I doubt you'd have the courage to say something like that."

"I never said you were a psychopath." She began to tick off her fingers. "I think you're arrogant, vindictive, cruel, judgmental, sadistic, unforgiving, and callous. But, to your credit, you do seem to have a conscience." She smiled sweetly. "That's pretty much the extent of your redeeming qualities, though." She looked him up and down, taking in the lean muscles that were not very well-concealed by his jumpsuit. "Well, that and your good looks."

"I could say the same about you," said the Kaiser caustically, though there was a slight blush staining his cheeks. "A butterfly is still an insect, after all."

Miyako blinked, trying to decode the backhanded compliment. "You...think that I'm pretty?" She knew that she had large breasts, and that a lot of boys stared at them when they thought she wasn't looking. But she also knew better than to confuse that with actually being pretty. Her love of food coupled with genetics meant that she had extra padding in more places than just her chest, after all, and her chest didn't make her face any nicer.

This was the first time a boy had ever said he found her attractive, even if it was in a vaguely insulting way.

His blush deepened. "I thought that was fairly obvious. Why else would I want to-" He cut himself off before he could finish the sentence.

 _Bingo!_ thought Miyako, and began to chuckle in spite of herself. "So, The Digimon Kaiser still thinks like a boy." He looked very awkward just then - like a child who had learned where babies come from for the first time.

His expression became even more sour, but he didn't say anything.

She snorted. "Oh come on, Ichijouji-kun. Why don't you just admit that the only reason why you want me here is because you want to get into my pants? "

"That's not-" He paused. "Don't presume to know what I'm thinking, Inoue-san."

"But it's _obvious_." She rolled her eyes. "You don't like me and you think I'm worthless, but you like the way I look. I know what that means." She sighed in exasperation. "I wish you'd have just come out and told me instead of playing all these stupid, pointless mind games. It would've saved both of us a lot of trouble."

The Kaiser's face was unreadable, and Miyako went on. "If I have sex with you, will you give Hawkmon back to me?"

At that, the Kaiser's mouth fell open slightly.

She rolled her eyes again. "It's not a hard question, Ichijouji-kun."

It took a long moment for the Kaiser to say, "You're not the only reason why I'm keeping that Digimon."

She smiled triumphantly. "But you admit that getting into my pants has been _one_ of the reasons?"

"I was under the impression that the mere thought of me touching you was enough to reduce you into a blubbering mess," said the Kaiser, clearly avoiding the question.

"No. I was afraid you were going to _force_ me. There's a difference." She put her hands behind her and leaned back on her elbows. "And yeah, it's not exactly something that I'm enthusiastic about, but I guess I'll just pretend you're somebody else. My virginity is less important to me than Hawkmon." She forced herself to grin. "Sure, I'll probably hate you for the rest of my life, but that's obviously not something you care about." She laughed. "Though you could just end up not giving him back to me in the end. And then, instead of being just a plain old whore, I'd be a _really stupid_ whore. But I'll just have to risk it, I guess."

An awkward silence.

"Aren't you going to say something? I'm giving you permission to _ravish_ me. That's what you want, isn't it?"

The Kaiser just looked at her for a few moments, until he finally said, "You should probably go, Inoue-san."

She frowned in genuine confusion. "Why?"

"Because if you stay here right now, I think I may just order one of my slaves to kill that Digimon of yours." His tone was almost conversational, but the menace was unmistakable. "Actually, I may just do that anyway."

"If you do that, I'll-"

"Never forgive me?" Finally, a sneer spread across his face. "Spare me, because I really don't care."

She pushed herself onto her feet and put her hands on her hips. "Fine," she said, smiling nastily. "I'm more than happy to leave."

The Kaiser got to his feet as well. "You will be coming back tomorrow, of course."

Her bottom lip began to tremble, the facade of cheerfulness crumbling away. "I just want this all to be over, already. I don't know how much longer I can stand it."

The Kaiser opened a channel in the communicator located on his wrist. "Send a Gotsumon up to the control room," he instructed. "Tell him to make sure that the Chosen Child goes home, and to subdue her if she tries to do anything suspicious."

She took the hint and stormed out of what must have been the observation deck, moving through the corridor and back into the room with the computers. Not even bothering to wait for the Gotsumon to arrive, she yelled, "Digital Gate open!"

And then she was alone in her bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

Shortly after Miyako left, the Kaiser made his way back to the control room, and was almost disappointed to find that Miyako had evidently left without a fuss. He dismissed the Gotsumon tersely - he disliked having his slaves in his presence unless there was a specific purpose for it - and settled into his throne. The rage that had been simmering inside of him began to recede, replaced by an emotion that he refused to name.

After a few minutes of simply trying to get his nerves to settle, he opened a comm channel to the deck where the Airdramon were held.

He knew exactly what he needed in order to take his mind off of this ridiculous situation.

* * *

"I'm an idiot," said Miyako as she gazed dejectedly at her reflection in the mirror. "I need to learn how to keep my mouth shut." This wasn't the first time that she'd thought this - or berated herself for it aloud. She had always been too loud and obnoxious; had always had trouble figuring out just what was the right thing to say. For all that she admired the demure femininity of girls like Hikari, it just wasn't something she'd ever managed herself. It had always made her feel like crap about herself.

And now it was putting Hawkmon in danger.

Miyako had crushes on a lot of people, but they'd always been a sort of abstract thing. It had never really occurred to her that she could be the _object_ of a crush, let alone something more intense. And yet, out of all the girls he could have chosen to obsess over, the Kaiser had picked _her._ Miyako was having trouble wrapping her head around it. Surely it should have been Hikari in her place. Hell, if _Miyako_ had to pick one person out of the five active Chosen Children to kiss, it would be Hikari.

But...it wasn't Hikari that the Kaiser wanted; it was _her_.

In a way, she was glad that her friend didn't have to deal with it in her place. Especially after that whole deal with Dagomon.

She shook her head and glared at herself, returning mentally to the most important matter at hand. "I shouldn't have said that." Privately, she could admit that she probably would've chickened out in the end, even if the Kaiser had accepted her offer.

_I know that you resent this entire situation. But...I'm not going to hurt you._

That was clearly a lie, because hurting Hawkmon was the same thing as hurting her. How was he unable to see that?

She picked up her D-terminal and typed, **I'm sorry that I said those things. I was being an idiot. So please don't hurt Hawkmon-I'll even beg if that's what I have to do.**

She sent it quickly and returned to scrutinizing herself in the mirror.

After scolding herself one last time for being an idiot, she finally turned towards her bed. It was true that she'd never be able to forgive the Kaiser if he hurt Hawkmon.

But, even more than that, she'd never be able to forgive _herself_.

* * *

The Elecmon fought with unrestrained ferocity, and the Kaiser allowed himself to get lost in the mindless violence, a smirk playing upon his lips. The Chosen Children had managed to raid one of his arenas early on, but he'd built more than one of them. And, no matter how many of his slaves they freed, he always managed to capture more than enough to compensate for the losses. It was true that he'd had less time to indulge in this particular pastime since they'd arrived, but it was still something he did on occasion.

He didn't quite know why this pastiche on the Roman coliseum amused him so much. As a child, he'd been horrified when he'd learned that people had derived entertainment from watching so much pain and death. And yet, Digimon were nothing but elements of a game. A very impressive, very life-like game, but a game none-the-less. He liked the fact that all he had to do was rewrite their base programming in order to have them bend to his every whim.

In that sense, the arena was the ultimate expression of their true nature.

For all that the digimon had very convincing simulations of human emotions, they were just mindless data in the end. And for some reason, it thrilled him to reveal the reality behind the lie. And to remind himself that, once those pests were gone, he would truly be the only person left in this world.

Somehow, that thought was not nearly as satisfying as it normally was. He felt his chest grow tight, and he closed his eyes unconsciously. The fight faded into the background as a scene - oddly vivid - was conjured unwittingly into his mind's eye

Miyako, walking in front of him, obscuring his view of the arena floor. There would be a smile on her face, warm and affectionate, as if she _wanted_ to be there - as if she was happy to be near him. "Why are you looking at them, dummy?" She would lean forward to take off his goggles, tossing them aside, and cup his face with her hands. "I want you to look at me instead."

And then she would kisses him, softly and sweetly. A kiss that had the same warmth as her smile.

The Kaiser opened his eyes again, his chest even tighter than when he had closed them. Some time must have passed, because the two Elecmon had collapsed in exhaustion.

The Kaiser didn't even bother to use his communicator, simply shouting, "Somebody come clean up this mess!" On cue, several of his slaves came out and dragged the Elecmon to the holding area that encircled the arena.

His eyes narrowed in annoyance; this had not turned out to be the distraction he'd hoped for.

* * *

Shortly after waking up, Miyako remembered that it was a Sunday. There wasn't as much excitement in that thought as there may have been the previous year. Because Sundays now meant that Miyako had to _work,_ both in the form of fighting in the Digital World and in the form of studying. The latter especially wasn't exactly Miyako's idea of a good time, but gone were the days when she'd been able to coast by without any effort.

With that in mind, she rolled out of bed and went to check her D-terminal, looking at her inbox with rising anxiety. There were two new messages; the first from Daisuke.

**Hey Miyako. Wanna to go out to a movie with me or something? Iori said he was worried about you, so I figured a break from studying would do you some good. There's a new one that's just come out of America, and all the guys at school say it's really good. It has giant robots and stuff. You're a fan of mecha, right?**

**Anyway, mail me if you wanna go.**

**\- Daisuke**

Miyako smiled, wishing that she could say yes. She and Daisuke didn't always get along so well, since they pushed each other's buttons. But was he was still a lot of fun to hang out with, given that he didn't seem to care about all the embarrassing things that Miyako did. He also had an uncanny talent for making you feel better, no matter how bleak the situation was.

But it just wasn't possible.

**Sorry, Daisuke, but I can't. Thanks for thinking of me, though.**

**\- Miyako**

The next message wiped the smile off her face.

**Be at these coordinates at 11:00 AM.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

That was all. There was no indication that he had even gotten her message from the night before.

**Is Hawkmon alright?**

**\- Miyako**

The reply came almost immediately.

**The digimon is fine. Don't ask about him again.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

Miyako made a disdainful sound at the commanding tone of the message, but didn't write anything more back. It was pointless to try and get him to sympathize with her need to study, and any other reason would be equally ignored.

She looked at the clock on the wall, and discovered with mild horror that it was already 10 in the morning. The last things she needed was to be late, so she scarfed down a breakfast of nothing but toast and headed off to have a bath. She was stopped, however, by her mother.

"You seem to be in a rush," she said, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

Miyako nodded and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. I have a study meeting at Chiyo-chan's this morning, and I accidentally slept in." Takahashi Chiyo was one of Miyako's classmates. They weren't exactly friends, but they had visited each other's apartments once or twice, so her mother knew who she was.

"Really," said her mother, clearly not convinced. "You're not planning on doing something frivolous?"

Miyako shook her head resolutely. "It's a study session."

Her mother smiled, taking Miyako by the hand. "I'm glad to hear it." She leaned forward to kiss Miyako on the cheek, then said, "Your brother and his fiancé are coming over for dinner tonight, and he said last night on the phone that he really wants to see you. So try to get home by seven, alright?"

Miyako's expression became apprehensive. "Is it just going to be them?" The last time the entire family had gotten together was the night when this whole mess had started. They had all gone out to eat at a restaurant, which, as always, had ended in disaster. This time because Chizuru and her mother had accused Momoe's boyfriend of being a swindler, and had tried to convince her to dump him.

The resulting fight had been what had driven her to go by herself to the Digital World. She loved her family, but they could be a little overwhelming sometimes.

Her mother sighed in understanding. "Yes, just those two. Momoe still isn't talking to me."

Miyako nodded. "I'll see you at seven, then."

* * *

She arrived in the Digital World in a considerably better mood, feeling like at least one burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Surveying the area, she didn't see the Kaiser anywhere.

"Ichijouji-kun?" she asked, feeling at once silly and apprehensive. Then, louder, "Ichijouji-kun!"

"This way!" came the reply, though it sounded like he was quite a far way off. She turned to the direction of the voice and found herself looking at a thicket of what appeared to be tropical plants: bushes with enormous, meaty leaves, as well as ferns so large that they wouldn't have been out of place in a documentary about dinosaurs. Mustering her courage, she walked up and pushed her way through the obstructive flora, only to find that the "thicket" was really more of a barrier. She was on the other side within a minute.

The other side, it turned out, was a beach. And not just any beach: a long winding snake of sand that seemed to extend infinitely into the distance, sandwiched between the blue of the ocean and the green of the thicket. She had never imagined that such a place could exist, even in the Digital World.

Once the awe had subsided somewhat, she caught sight of a beach umbrella several hundred meters away. It seemed so out of place, and yet there it was. Dumbfounded, she walked towards it. And, lo and behold, the Kaiser was there.

Except...it wasn't really the Kaiser. Not in the strictest sense.

"Is this some kind of joke?" asked Miyako, with the utmost sincerity.

The Kaiser - no, Ichijouji Ken - gave her a half smile. "Does it look like a joke?"

Gone was the jumpsuit, goggles, coat, gloves, and, perhaps most drastically, the hair, which now lay flat against his head, sleek and dark. He was dressed in a plain grey t-shirt and what appeared to be a pair of swimming trunks. She had never really realized just how much impact somebody's hair and clothing could have on their appearance. Like this, he looked like somebody you could trust - the type of boy you wanted to take home to meet your parents. And...he was handsome. Very, very handsome.

Miyako's heart began to pound, and didn't stop even after she reminded herself firmly that this was the Digimon Kaiser, the person who'd been gleefully toying with her for over a week.

"You're staring," he said flatly.

She averted her eyes, her cheeks flaring with warmth. "S-sorry. It's just...weird, seeing you like that."

"Are you just going to stand there, then?"

Miyako still didn't look at him, her embarrassment rising. "You should have told me to bring a bathing suit," she said, purposefully avoiding the question. At least then she would have had an excuse to go and swim...or something.

"I made one for you, actually. But you don't have to wear it if you don't want to."

This prompted Miyako to look at him again, only to find that he was looking very hard at his feet, blushing.

 _He's so cute,_ she thought, utterly horrified.

It took a moment for her to regain enough willpower to say, "No, I'll wear it," all the while wondering if it was a terrible idea. But the tension was high enough as it was, and she figured that he probably wanted her wear it if he'd gone to the trouble to make it for her. Sure, he was being more polite about it than usual, but she didn't want to risk offending him. Not after her screwup the night before.

He reached into a bag next to him and pulled out a neatly-folded one-piece bathing suit, handing it to her. "I won't be able to see you if you change behind the plants," he said.

"Thanks." She pressed it to her chest and walked quickly towards the not-quite-thicket, and felt herself relax once she was out of his line of sight. "Just what is he playing at?" she asked herself, unfurling the bathing suit to take a good look at it.

It was plain: no frills or adornments, a single shade of navy blue. Miyako actually preferred this style over bikinis, not liking the way they exposed her belly, but she doubted that the Kaiser knew a detail like that. Knowing him, he'd probably just found it too embarrassing to make her something more revealing.

Changing didn't take too long, despite the fact that the swimsuit was a little too tight over her chest, and she was soon walking back with her clothes folded into a pile. Ken must have heard her approach, because he turned around to look at her.

The expression on his face was so intent that Miyako felt her heart-rate increasing again.

"It fits," he said, when she put her clothes down on the blanket that served as a barrier against the sand.

"Yeah," she replied, suddenly aware of just how much of her skin was showing, and how tightly the suit was clinging to her curves. She rested her hands in her lap.

They sat there together in silence for several minutes, the atmosphere becoming more awkward with every second that went by. And, once she couldn't take it anymore, she announced, "I'm gonna go swimming."

Ken nodded stiffly, but didn't say anything.

The sand felt good between her naked toes, and the water felt even better - cold, but not so cold that it was uncomfortable. Medium-sized waves were crashing not too far from the shore, and the tide swelled in and out over her feet. She couldn't _really_ go swimming, because that would mean taking off her glasses. And really, she was far more interested in _seeing_ everything. It was true that this wasn't exactly happening under the best of circumstances, but she was going to appreciate it as best she could; it had been so long since the last time she'd gone to the beach.

She waded in deeper until the water was up to her knees, still a good distance away from where the waves were crashing, and felt something digging into the bottom of her foot. Reaching down to pick it up, she discovered that it was a shell. It reminded her of the shells she'd found on the beach as a child-the common kind that belonged to seaside mollusks like mussels and clams.

"Good thing I didn't step too heavily," she muttered. "This thing could have split my foot right open."

She turned it over in her hand, admiring the way the sunlight reflected off the smooth pearlescent surface on the inside half of it.

"It looks like you've found something interesting," said a voice from behind her, and Miyako stiffened slightly in surprise.

"N-not really," she said, not turning around. "It's just a shell."

She heard him moving through the water, then felt him stop just behind her. "You examining it quite thoroughly, though. So you must find it interesting."

She still didn't turn around. "Well...I guess I just never really thought about the fact that there are regular animals in the Digital World before. I mean, I've eaten meat and seafood here, but you don't really see any digimon farming cows or pigs or chickens. Or digging up mollusks like the one that made this shell. But...they must be doing it _somewhere_."

"You're over-thinking it," he said. "Did you not notice the vending machines on the beach? The Digital World lacks that kind of internal logical consistency."

Okay, yes, he had a point, but for some reason that comment still annoyed her. "Well maybe I _like_ over-thinking it," she snapped. And then, realizing what she had done, quickly added, "Um...that came out wrong. Sorry."

There she went again, running her mouth off like an idiot.

"Please turn around," he said. And even though he didn't _sound_ angry, Miyako wasn't sure if that could be trusted. Especially after the events of the previous night.

Still, she turned around.

He sighed. "Please look at me."

It was harder this time, but she managed to oblige.

"Why are you acting like this?" he asked, and his expression showed genuine confusion.

"Like _what_?"

He grabbed a hold of one her wrists, and although it his grip was gentle, Miyako felt another spark of fear. He was getting angry-she just knew it.

"You're _shaking_ ," he said, accusatory.

"I can't _help_ that," she replied angrily. Then, more quietly, almost miserably, "I mean...I don't why that's happening."

He was outright frowning now. "Stop it," he commanded, all politeness gone.

She took a deep, shaky breath. "I can't stop it until you tell me what I'm doing wrong."

He let go of her wrist, the frown deepening into a scowl. Somehow, the expression was far more intimidating when worn upon his naked face. "It doesn't matter where we are, does it? You're still always thinking about that _thing_."

Miyako bit her bottom lip, uncertain if saying anything more would be a good idea. She still didn't understand what he was saying, and the anger returned to mingle with the fear. This time, however, she was determined not to let her temper get the better of her.

If anything, her lack of reaction just seemed to make him angrier. His nostrils flared, and for a moment Miyako was sure that has was going to grab her again. He didn't, though, and turned around instead, wading out of the water and back onto the shore. Soon, he was sitting under the umbrella, now too far away for her to make out his expression.

She really wanted to leave, but she'd left her D-3 in the same pile as her clothing. If she wanted to get it, she'd have to go over to where Ken was sitting. Steeling herself, she dropped the shell back into the water and walked to the umbrella, trying her best to be as nonchalant about it as possible. She bent down to look for her D-3-she could leave her other clothes behind, since her real clothes would come back the second she was back in the Real World-but found that it was missing.

With a sinking feeling, she looked over at Ken. And, true to her suspicions, he was holding it up to her, a dark smile on his face. "I don't suppose you were looking for this?" he said. "I don't recall giving you permission to leave."

It took a considerable portion of her will power to keep her vocal volume from escalating. "Um, right," she said, bowing her head in acknowledgement. "Is it alright for me to go? I still have a lot of studying to do."

He made a sound of amusement. "I'm sure you're not in that much of a rush, so you should probably sit down for the moment." His tone made it clear that "probably" meant "definitely".

So, she sat down.

For a moment, the silence returned, even more awkward than before. But then she felt his hand upon hers, and he said, "I wasn't lying when I said that I wasn't going to hurt you."

Miyako pursed her lips together and moved her hand away, only to have him grab it and move in closer to her. He put his other hand on her shoulder and, very gently, pushed her onto her back. Propping himself with a bent elbow, he leaned forward so that his face was just inches from hers.

Her heart felt like it was going to rip a hole through her ribcage.

"Miyako-san," he whispered, his warm breath ghosting against her cheek, and her eyes widened further at the use of her name. She felt weak and helpless. But, much to her confusion, she almost wanted him to...to...

He kissed her, then, ever so softly, teasing her lips apart so that he could slip his tongue inside her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed, and the tension that had been building up inside of her suddenly didn't feel so unpleasant. Without really thinking about it, she snaked her arms around his back, feeling warm skin beneath her fingertips.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that he was shirtless. But for some reason it didn't bother her. In fact, it felt good to touch him. It felt _right_.

She moaned a little and moved her hands up his back and into his hair, deepening the kiss even further. Her skin felt like it was on fire - like it was alight was electricity - and she wanted him to touch her more. There was another noise, this time from him, and it sent a thrill through her, straight to that delightful knot in her belly.

She _wanted him_.

For once, it was him who broke away first, and she couldn't help the little whine that escaped her at the loss of contact.

"Who am I, Miyako-san?" he asked breathily, and Miyako opened her eyes reluctantly.

"Uh..." she began, trying to regain her wits. "...huh?"

She was vaguely aware that the atmosphere had changed again. "Who _am_ I?" he asked again, this time more forcefully.

Not really understanding the question, she said, "You're...you?" Why was he asking philosophical questions at a time like this?

He pushed himself up abruptly. "Right. Of course." He sounded upset.

Suddenly, Miyako remembered where she was, and who she was with. Pushing herself upright as well, she covered her mouth in horror.

She had let him kiss her, and she would have let do much more _._

Because apparently, that was just the kind of dirty, selfish traitor she was.

Even worse, she kind of _really_ wanted him to kiss her again.

"Give me my D-3," she said, more than a little desperately. "I _really_ need to go."

Ken smiled a very cruel smile. "But if you go _now_ , Miyako-san, I may decide to hurt your Digimon." He chuckled derisively. "Maybe you should _grovel_ some more."

"Don't-" she swallowed down the lump that was forming in her throat. "Don't call me that." She didn't like the way it made her heart race.

He smirked. "You need to be more clear. What don't you want me to call you, _Miyako-san_?"

She grit her teeth, then said, "Please just give it to me."

Another silence, and his expression turned into a glower. Then, after doing this for a while, he handed her the D-3, saying, "You're going to regret this."

And, when she took it from him, she said, "I already do." With that, she stood up and walked back to the Digital Gate.


	7. Chapter 7

Nobody would ever accuse Inoue Mantarou of being the most sensitive guy in the world. In fact, as far as being sensitive went, Mantarou placed pretty far down on the list. It was, indeed, something of an Inoue family trait.

Even so, he had seen his little sister growing up, and he knew her moods like the back of his own hand. And seeing the way she was slouching across from him at the table, barely interested in her food, he knew that something wasn't right. Something _big._ Because only something really bad could make Inoue Miyako lose interest in her food.

"So, Ko-chan," he began, using his old nickname for her. "How's school going? Still aiming for Todai?"

"Yeah," she replied, offering him a weak smile.

He raised his eyebrows. "Where's the enthusiasm? You were so excited about it the last time I asked that you nearly blew a gasket. Having second thoughts?"

She shook her head.

His fiancé Shizuna elbowed him in the ribs, giving him her "shut the hell up you idiot" look, and he gasped a little in pain.

"What was that for?" he whispered.

"We'll talk later," she said. Then added, " _Men._ "

The rest of dinner consisted of his parents questioning him and Shizuna while Miyako looked down at her barely-eaten food in dejection. And, once the two of them were alone in their bedroom, Shizuna leaned in and said, "She's having _boy trouble_."

Mantarou scowled. "No way, Shizuna."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "You're just saying that because you can't accept the fact that she's all grown up."

Folding his arms defensively, he said, "My little sister is _not_ dating someone."

"So what are your other sisters doing, then?"

"Doesn't matter. They're old enough."

Shizuna also crossed her arms. "And how old will Miyako-chan have to be before she has your permission to date?"

He thought about this for a moment. Then, matter-of-factly, he said, "Thirty."

She rolled her eyes again. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to go talk to her myself." Then she walked out of the bedroom and over to Miyako's, knocking lightly on the door. "Miyako-chan," she said, giving another quick knock. "Can I come in?"

"Uh...yeah," came the hesitant answer.

Shizuna opened the door and walked inside the room, taking the liberty to sit on Miyako's bed. Miyako for her part was seated at her desk, pencil in hand and textbook open.

"I am so glad that I'm out of high school," said Shizuna, making a face at the textbook. "All that _studying_."

Miyako offered her a smile. "Yeah, it can get pretty tiresome. I like learning things, but I don't think I'm ever going to need to know the names of _any_ European monarchs once I'm in university."

Nodding in understanding, Shizuna said, "So...do want to talk about it?"

Miyako blinked. "About what?"

A sly smile came to Shizuna's lips. "About the _boy_ that you're having trouble with."

Miyako blinked again. "...Boy?" And suddenly, comprehension sparked in her eyes. She barked out a very unconvincing laugh. "A _boy?_ Hah! I wish!"

"Uh- _huh_ ," said Shizuna.

Miyako gave her hand a dismissive wave, a big fake smile stretching her lips. "That's seriously ridiculous. I am completely and utterly devoid of any problems involving boys."

"So..." said the older woman, putting a hand to her chin. "Is it an unrequited love?"

"No way!" said Miyako, this time with genuine incredulity. She had gotten so involved in the emotion that she had actually stood up in her chair. Self-consciously, she lowered herself down again, swallowing. "I mean...there's nothing in my life right now that involves that kinda thing, even if I wish that there was."

Shizuna's smile fell away, replaced with a look of concern. "You have Tarou-kun really worried, Miyako-chan. And it takes something _really_ obvious to get his attention." She stood up and walked to the door, but stopped when her hand reached the handle. "This is probably more complicated than I first thought, so I won't pry anymore. But if you ever need somebody to talk to, just give me a call." Turning so that Miyako could see her face, she grinned. "Good luck with the studying, though. I can't say that I envy you."

With that, she exited, closing the door behind her.

* * *

Miyako stared down at the textbook, reading the words without really understanding them. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool, and her eyes felt hot. She tried to take a deep breath, but it only caused her to cough.

She was not sick. She didn't have a fever. This was just fatigue, and she'd be absolutely fine in the morning.

If she believed it hard enough, maybe she could will it into being true.

She thought back on the events that had happened earlier in the day, and felt a lump develop in her throat. She couldn't be sick-not when she needed to be strong. But the world had a way of making sure that all of your problems happen at the same time. What was it that Americans called it?

Ah yes. Murphy's Law.

She coughed again, reminding herself that this foreigner named Murphy probably didn't exist. Not the one responsible for the so-called law, at any rate.

The clock on her desk told her that it was already past one in the morning, and she still had to go to school tomorrow. Besides, even if she was sick, maybe the Kaiser wouldn't bother her.

The thought did little to comfort her when she finally got into bed.

* * *

She woke up feeling worse, but forced herself to go to school. Her test was, after all, only a week away. Her D-terminal remained blissfully empty for the duration of the school day.

Unfortunately, it was not to last.

**Come to these coordinates at 5:00 PM.**

**\- Digimon Kaiser**

She looked longingly at her bed, then back down at the screen. Her clock told her that it was already three o'clock. If she went to bed now, there was no way that she would be able to wake up in time.

Her chest suddenly hurt, and she coughed hard.

* * *

The first thing he noticed when she arrived in the control room was that her face was very pale, her eyes glassy, and the Kaiser's eyebrows furrowed. He stood up and walked over to her.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, now only a step away.

She didn't look at him. "Nothing's wrong," she said, and her tone was so miserable that she would have been better off not saying anything at all.

Something about that annoyed him, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Is that so?" He reached forward and took a hold of one her arms. "In that case, come with me."

She came with surprisingly little resistance, but they had barely walked five steps before he heard the unmistakable sound of a stifled sob. But, when he turned back to look at her, there were no tears to be seen-just the same expression of misery.

He scowled. "You haven't even seen the surprise yet. That look on your face will be more appropriate once you have."

She finally looked at him, but her gaze seemed completely unfocused. Blinking hard, she said, "I need to sit down." And she did, right there in the middle of the control room, her arm slipping out of his grasp. Then she added, almost as an afterthought, "It's really cold in here."

"Get up," he commanded.

She shook her head, as if trying to clear it. "I don't think I can."

"Get up," he repeated, even more forcefully. "Before I do something you'll regret."

She bit her bottom lip, but she still didn't move. When she looked at him again, her eyes were even more unfocused. "...Are you going to hit me?"

He sighed in exasperation. "Don't be foolish." He kneeled down. "Are you really planning to continue acting like a child?"

She didn't respond for several moments. But, after taking a very deep breath, she finally said, "I'm not being childish; I just don't think I can get up." The words had barely left her mouth before her body was wracked with deep, raspy coughs-coughs that sounded like they belonged to a sick old woman rather than a seventeen-year-old girl.

And then his eyes widened.

Pale face, glassy eyes, chills, weakness. Without really thinking, he took off one of his gloves and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.

It was far, far too hot.

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "You have a fever," he said.

She gave a weak, derisive laugh, followed by another series of coughs. "I bet that makes _you_ happy. Looks like I'm getting very thoroughly punished."

He could see, now that he was paying attention to it, that her breathing seemed labored and shallow. "You should be in bed," he said, the remnants of his anger evaporating. "Here, let me help you up." He held out his hand for her to take.

Eyeing it, she said, "This is a trick. Once I'm up, you're gonna make me watch you do something horrible to Hawkmon."

That had been the plan, the Kaiser conceded to himself. But he didn't think the demonstration would do any good if her wits were addled with a fever. "Miyako-san..." he began, suddenly unable to look at her.

"Don't call me that."

"Miyako-san," he said, more firmly, but still not looking at her. "You probably have bronchitis, but if you exert yourself too much it could develop into pneumonia. It's important that you rest." He frowned. "I have no intention of making your condition worse, so please let me help you."

"I know what bronchitis is, Ichijouji-kun."

He frowned. "Then why did you come here?"

"Because I'm not stupid enough to think that you care about my health." Another derisive laugh, followed by a hacking cough. "Besides, you would've just thought I was lying." With trembling arms, she pushed herself to her feet, stumbling slightly in the process.

The Kaiser stood as well, lips pursing.

"Okay, I'm up." She gave an incredibly strained smile. "Let's get to making me regret doing whatever it is you're refusing to tell me I did wrong."

He was becoming increasingly frustrated, and, before he could stop himself, he snapped, "Aren't you even going to try and convince me to spare you?"

"What's the point?" she replied. "When I say the wrong thing, you get angry. And when I try to say the right thing, it always turns out to be the wrong thing. Honestly?" Now she just sounded tired. "I don't think that there is a right way to talk to you. You obviously just want to make me suffer, and any hint of compassion you've shown in the past was just a way of giving me false hope so that you could mess with my head even more. So I may as well just stop expecting any better from you, shut my mouth, and wait until you get bored with me."

The Kaiser's hands clenched into fists, a feeling that was not-quite-anger welling up inside of him. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him, crushing her to his chest. Putting his mouth right beside her ear and weaving his free hand into her hair, he said, "You think that this is bad, Miyako-san?" He chuckled mirthlessly. "I could make your life a living _hell_ if I wanted to."

He heard her breath coming in short, harsh bursts, and felt the unnatural heat radiating from her body. "Do you want to know the truth?" he continued, dropping his voice to a whisper. "The truth is...I don't think I'm ever going to get bored of you." Her breathing become harsher still, and he smirked. "I suppose this is the part where you 'shut your mouth', hmm? Perhaps you should have done it sooner."

"I-" her voice was strained and raspy.

"What?" he all but growled, pulling her even closer. "Have you lost the ability to speak?"

"I can't-" A cough. "I can't b-breath."

Her back was moving very quickly against his hand, and the Kaiser immediately let her go, stepping back.

She was hyperventilating, eyes wide and pupils dilated. He could see wetness in her eyes as well, and the way that she was trembling. It was like being slapped across the face.

Softly, he said, "You _can_ breath, Miyako-san. You just need to calm down."

She shook her head and closed her eyes, the wetness spilling over onto her cheeks. It was then that she began to cough again, doubling over with the force of it. But she went right back to hyperventilating once the coughing fit was over.

And then her eyes rolled back into her head.

Luckily. the Kaiser managed to catch her before she hit the floor. He then pressed the back of his still ungloved hand against her forehead once more.

What he felt there made him sick with fear.

* * *

Awareness returned slowly, but it didn't take Miyako long to come to one conclusion: she felt like complete and utter crap. Once that revelation was out of the way, several other things came to her attention. Namely, that she was lying in a bed, and that she had no idea how she had gotten in that bed.

And then she remembered what had happened before she came to be-well, wherever she was-and, much to her frustration, tears began to well up in her eyes.

"I'm such an idiot," she said softly, sniffling. It hurt to speak through the dryness of her throat, and she was assaulted by a fit of coughs. This, in turn, only made the crying worse.

"So...you're awake," said a very nearby voice, and Miyako felt her heart sink even further.

"Oh." She sniffed again. "It's you." She opened her eyes, but she couldn't see much without her glasses; just indistinct shapes and colors. The tears weren't helping, either.

Something cool and damp was placed against her forehead. "...Yeah," was his reply. "Would you like me to get you a tissue?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak properly, and pulled one of her arms out from under the covers. The tissue was pressed into her hand, and she used it to wipe the wetness from her cheeks before blowing her nose. This was followed by a painful cough.

"Where are we?" she asked, her voice cracking.

There was a pause, and then, "I'll get you some water." She heard a door opening a moment later.

Blearily, she looked up at the ceiling. It was...familiar, even though her vision was terribly blurred. If anything, that only seemed to be adding to the sense of familiarity.

In fact...

She heard the door being closed again, and she turned her head to see a tall, blurred form walking towards the bed.

He sat down. "Can you sit up?" he asked.

She pushed herself up without answering. "Hand me my glasses?"

"Ah," he said, a little hesitantly, and handed them to her.

Putting them on, she found her suspicions confirmed. If she had the energy, she would have gotten furious. "How did you manage to get into my room while I was unconscious?"

Ken had the courtesy to look apologetic. "My security protocols log the system information of every computer that accesses my base. " He must have noticed the way her face contorted in outrage, because he added, "I never intended to use it, but this was an emergency."

"Right," she said dubiously, trying her best to quell a cough. "Can you just give me the water?"

He handed her the glass, as well as two small red tablets. "They're for your fever," he said.

"I _know_ ," she replied, then swallowed them with a big gulp of water. Luckily, she managed to finish before her body was wracked with another cough. After it had subsided, she said, "As hard as it must be for you to believe, I do actually know about _obscure_ things like bronchitis and painkillers."

He was beginning to sound angry again. "I was just clarifying that I wasn't planning to poison you."

"That wasn't necessary." She took another sip of water. "I know that you wouldn't want to damage any of your toys."

He made a derisive sound in the back of his throat. "You should be thanking me, you know. I could've just left you on the floor of my control room."

Much to her horror, she felt tears returning to her eyes. Why was this happening _now_? She used her sleeve to wipe at them, but it proved to be futile. "Um...thank you for not leaving me on the floor." She hated how pathetic she sounded, and that just made the tears come faster. "Really - I'm grateful. But..." She looked at him. "Can you leave now?"

The expression on his face mellowed somewhat, and he asked, "When was the last time you ate something?"

She honestly had to think about it. "I dunno. This morning?"

Putting a hand on her shoulder, he gently pushed her down so that her head was laying on her pillow. It was oddly reminiscent of the previous day, and Miyako did her best to fight off yet another wave of tears.

"Just lie down for now, alright?" he said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

And he exited the room again, leaving her to herself.

* * *

The kitchen was fairly organized - though nothing compared to his mother's level of meticulousness - and the rice proved easy enough to find. He rinsed it in a colander he found underneath the sink and put it in the rice cooker, turning the setting to "porridge". The timer said it wouldn't be ready for another twenty minutes and, for a moment, he considered going back to check on Miyako.

But no, she may still be crying, so it was probably better to wait. Why did she have to make everything so _complicated_? It wasn't entirely his fault, after all. She _had_ decided to say things that she knew would get him angry. And...

And he couldn't keep that train of thought going, because he knew that it wasn't true. As much as he hated it, there was simply no way to rationalize what he'd done. Regardless of what she'd said or done the day before, he'd been irresponsible to lose his temper when she obviously was so ill. He was absolutely certain that he'd made her condition worse. Respiratory illnesses weren't something to be taken lightly. He remembered how his mother had been hospitalized with pneumonia when he was younger.

Still, the events of the previous day kept playing over and over again in his mind.

She had pretended that he was somebody else, just like she had said she would. How _dare_ she. It was...it was...

_"Why are you looking at them, dummy? I want you to look at me instead."_

It was disrespectful. And with that thought, it took every ounce of willpower to keep himself from snarling.

He was finally brought back to the present when the rice cooker gave a piercing "ding", and he ladled the steaming porridge mechanically into a bowl. He remembered watching his mother make it when he was much younger - although she had done it over a stove. She had always added the salt right before serving it. Just a pinch, he remembered.

There was salt in a cabinet close to where he'd found the bowl, and a several spoons on the drying rack. Grabbing both, he considered checking in the fridge to see if there were any green onions to slice up and add, but eventually decided against it. He didn't know if Miyako liked green onions.

Osamu had hated them.

He stirred the porridge thoroughly and left the bowl on the kitchen counter to cool down, locating a medium-sized plastic container from one of the cabinets. Pouring the unused porridge into it, he sealed it with its lid and put it in the refrigerator. Then, he washed the bowl of the rice cooker and set it on the drying rack.

He picked up the bowl of porridge and walked back to Miyako's room, glad to find that her parents hadn't yet returned home from whatever it is that they did for a living. There were many explanations he could use in the event of an inconvenient encounter, but he would have much preferred to avoid that.

When he entered her room, he found that she had stopped crying, and was a little uncomfortable at just how relieved he was that this was the case. Walking over to the bed, he sat down in the chair and balanced the bowl on his lap.

Her eyes were closed.

He reached forward and shook her gently. "Are you awake?"

She didn't open her eyes, but said, "Yeah," in a soft, croaky voice.

He reflected that he should've gotten her more water. "I made you something. Can you sit up?"

She nodded and pushed herself up, her eyes finally opening. They were blood-shot. "I'm really not hungry."

He held out the bowl. "You should eat it anyway."

She took it and transferred it onto her own blanket-covered lap, looking down at it with apprehension. She then took a spoonful and put it in her mouth. Once she had swallowed, she said, "It's good."

The praise made his stomach do an odd little flip-flop. "I didn't know if you like green onions or not, so I left them out." It felt so silly to say. Why had he felt the need to tell her that?

She smiled weakly. "I love them," she said, staring down at the bowl. "When I was little, I used to ask my mother to put in extra."

"Me too," he said, before he'd thought better of it. His cheeks went warm. "I can take it back to the kitchen and add some, if you want."

She shook her head. "No, this is fine." She ate another spoonful.

An apology was on the tip of his tongue - several, really.

For being thoughtless enough not to ask in advance. For getting her sick in the first place. For still being so angry with her.

He didn't say any of them, though. He just watched her, that strange ache building in his chest.

Once she had eaten about half the contents of the bowl, she said, "This is my limit, Ichijouji-kun," and put down the spoon. She then covered her mouth and let out a series of coughs.

He took the bowl back the kitchen and washed it. This time, he was sure to get her a glass of water.

Sitting back down in the chair, he handed it to her. She didn't protest like she had with the food, and gulped it down hungrily. She leaned down to put the empty glass on the floor next to her bed.

Finally, she lay back and closed her eyes.

"Is there...anything else I can do?" he asked.

She cracked her eyes open. "Well, since you're already here, I guess there is something."

"What?"

"There's a textbook open on my desk. Can you quiz me?"

"Y-yeah," he said, surprised, and went to retrieve said textbook. It was on European history.

He began the quiz with easier questions, like "who was the British monarch who established the Anglican church?", but he made them progressively harder as time went on. She managed to get all of the answers correct, up until her voice began to slur.

There was no answer to his final question, and, when he looked up from the textbook, he saw that she was fast asleep. He put the textbook back on the desk and stood up, taking a good look around her room for the first time since he'd arrived. There were posters on the walls: of games, mostly, though a few of anime characters. Her bookshelf was filled with volumes of manga.

Otaku, he thought with a smirk. It fit.

Struck by a sudden impulse, he stood up and went back to her bed, then leaned down to kiss her forehead. Her fever had gone down, at least. Straightening, he noticed that a few pieces of hair had fallen into her face, and he brushed them away.

He traced a finger down the side of her cheek, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

A butterfly was still just an insect, at the end of the day _._

Finally, he went to her computer, and was gone a moment later.


	8. Chapter 8

In the end, Miyako wasn't hospitalized with pnuemonia. Her mother had a minor panic attack, true, but that had been the worst of it. She had gone to the doctor, had been given a run of antibiotics, and was over the worst of it after three days. And even though she had missed school, she had gotten one of her classmates to email her some scanned-in notes.

Iori, Daisuke, and Hikari had visited her together on the second day, after Iori had come by himself the day before. She was grateful that he had come with a group the second time, because it had been painfully awkward with just the two of them there.

He was very good at showing disapproval without saying a single word.

The Kaiser hadn't contacted her during her recovery, though, and she couldn't really decide if she was happy or worried.

On the fourth day, however, he sent her another one of his succinct messages, giving her the time and coordinates where she was supposed to meet him. He had sent it at around ten at night, so her instructions were for the evening of the following day.

It was nice to get some fore-warning, she guessed.

Still, she was so nervous that she only fell asleep after at least an hour of fitful tossing.

* * *

She didn't really have the energy to get nervous anymore as she typed in the coordinates that the Kaiser had given her. There was always a chance that he had changed his mind - he did seem genuinely worried about her health - but she wasn't counting on it. If there was one thing she knew about the enigmatic young man, it was that one of his many talents involved holding grudges.

It was his base, like the last time. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and she was almost glad to see that he was dressed in his regular getup-especially that he was wearing the dark glasses. In a lot of ways, the costume made him _less_ intimidating.

She sighed as she walked up to him, saying, "I have pretty good idea about why you want me here, so let's just get this over with."

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his expression and tone carefully controlled.

Miyako sighed again. "Okay, I guess? I'm not hacking out my lungs anymore." She held out her hand expectantly. "Lead me into the pit of despair, oh mighty Digimon Kaiser-sama."

That got her a reaction - the barest twisting downwards of his mouth. "Do you think making light of it will make it easier?" he asked.

She smiled, feeling a weird, manic sort of cheerlessness; she was finally starting to get the nervous energy she often did after a long period of laying about. "Nope," she said brightly. "But it's worth a try."

His forehead crinkled a little, and she wondered if she had managed to throw him off balance at all. It wasn't really on purpose, if she had-she just had a tendency to become impulsive when she like this. Well, more so than usual. Even she couldn't exactly predict what she would do, or why.

It was why she hated feeling this way so much. There was very little worse than knowing that you're being completely irrational, but being unable to really stop yourself.

He didn't take her arm like the last time, opting instead to turn with a slight wave of hand, indicating that she should follow. Letting her arm fall back to her side, she did so, and was lead down the depressingly sterile hallway that he had once used to take her to the observation deck. But they passed it by completely, walking to what appeared to be some kind of elevator.

He pressed a button and the doors opened, and motioned for her to walk inside. Once she had, she watched him press another button, and felt her smile returning. "All that's missing is saxophone music," she said.

It was pretty obvious that he was glaring at her from behind the glasses.

She pouted. "Aw, lighten up, Ichijouji-kun. You're the one who's supposed to be having fun here, remember?" She was sorely tempted to reach over and squish his cheeks together, but managed to at least reign in that particular impulse. "I mean, I thought punishing people was one of your favorite pastimes. You've always been grinning when you've done it the past."

"Shut up," he spat. Then he smirked, but it looked rather forced. "Are you _trying_ to make this situation worse?"

She shook her head, pout morphing back into a smile. "Not really. I just prefer it when you smile. And at least one of us should get something positive out of this experience, or else it isn't worth much."

Perhaps it was just her imagination, but he seemed to stiffen. She definitely saw him swallow. "Don't..." One of his hands clenched into a fist. "Don't say things that you don't mean, Miyako-san."

Her smile became sly. "But I _do_ mean it. Ichijouji-kun has a very sexy smile, even if it isn't very friendly."

He didn't say anything, but his fist began to shake.

In spite of everything, she felt a visceral kind of satisfaction at his anger.

The doors opened without any ceremony, and he lead her into a large, barren room. At the far end of it, however, were three digimon: two Snymon...and Hawkmon.

Her eyes went wide with horror at the sight of her partner. He was chained to a wall, and the Snymon were swiping at him with their long, deadly-looking claws.

"Miyako-san..." he said, voice trembling with pain. "Please...help me..."

She felt tears come to her eyes, and tried to look away. But, once she had, the Kaiser said, "If you look away, I'll make his death even _slower_."

Sobbing, she looked back, feeling as if she was being torn apart from the inside.

Hawkmon cried out in agony.

The Kaiser chuckled. "Beg me to end his suffering, Miyako-san."

She watched with wavering vision as the Snymon struck him again, even harder than before.

"Please..." _Oh god. Please forgive me. I'm so sorry, but I just_ _ **can't**_ _-_ "Just...do it already!"

When he spoke again, his voice was right beside her, no louder than a whisper. "Not until you say: 'Digimon Kaiser-sama, please kill my pathetic digimon.'"

It finally became too much when Hawkmon shouted, "Help me! I beg of you!"

"Digimon Kaiser-sama," she said, a terrible numbness replacing the pain. "Please kill my pathetic digimon."

He laughed softly and kissed her cheek. "Very good, Miyako-san. I knew you'd see things my way eventually."

And, with the Snymons' final attack, Hawkmon exploded in a cloud of data.

* * *

She awoke in a cold sweat, heart pounding in her chest.

It was just a dream.

She reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes.

It didn't really happen. It was just a dream.

But...it had been so _vivid_ , and it hadn't even been implausible.

She was fairly sure that he wouldn't actually go that far in real lif _e_ , though the thought did little to dispel the panic swelling in her gut. Pushing herself out of bed, she went to her desk and turned on her lamp. The clock told her that it was only two o'clock in the morning, but she knew that there was no way that she'd be able to get back to sleep.

Tommorow, she was going to try to talk to him. No yelling, no accusations - just...talking. Like an adult.

And if that didn't work, she had no idea what she'd do.

* * *

For the first time in a while, the coordinates didn't lead to the Kaiser's base. Instead, it was a clearing in the middle of a jungle. The Kaiser was standing with his back to the gate, and his posture seemed to radiate impatience.

He must have heard her arrival, because he moved to turn around. But Miyako said, "Wait."

"Why?" he asked, and his voice betrayed the same impatience as his posture.

"Because..." she swallowed. "I need to say something, and I don't think I can do it if you turn around."

She saw him cross his arms. "Alright then - spit it out."

"Thank you for helping me when I was sick," she said. "And...I'm sorry that I said those things, back at the base. I won't lie and say that I didn't mean any of it, because I did. But some of it was just the fever talking."

"Is that all?"

She shook her head, even though she knew he couldn't see it. "No. I..." The knot of tension tightened almost painfully. "I'm going to try speaking to you like you're a reasonable person. Because I realize that I've mostly just been speaking to you like you're a crazy person, and it hasn't really been getting me anywhere. So...please let me finish, and don't jump to any conclusions. The things I say don't always come out right, but I'll do my best not to make you angry again."

There was a long pause, and then, "Go ahead."

"I've always had trouble saying the right thing," she admitted. "All I ever seem to do is annoy people and hurt their feelings, even though I don't want to. I mean...I don't really have many friends. Iori-kun only puts up with me because I've known him since he was a toddler, and Daisuke only puts up with me because I don't think he's capable of holding grudges. And...I don't think that Hikari-chan and Takeru-kun dislike me, exactly. But, if it weren't for this place, I doubt they would have ever wanted to spend much time with me." She screwed her eyes shut as her chest tightened painfully. "Hawkmon's the only person who's ever had any patience for me, really."

"Does this have a point? Because I really couldn't care less about those insects."

Miyako was almost thankful that she was so nervous, because it made it impossible to really get angry. "The _point_ is that I never know the right thing to say, even with normal people. But it's so much _worse_ with you. You're wearing those stupid goggles all the time and I can never trust that anything you're saying is true, and you make me _so angry_ all the time. So...it's like a vicious cycle. I make you angry, then you do something to make me angry, then I say something to make you even more angry. And..."

"And?"

"I'm afraid of you."

Quietly, he said, "You should be."

She laughed tensely. "It's good to know that you were aiming for it, I guess. Actually..." she began to toy with a lock of hair. "I'm pretty much terrified of you. So I'm in this weird position where I'm angry at you, and terrified of you, and terrified that I'm going to say something wrong." She felt the tears coming, and was immensely glad that he wasn't looking at her. She did her best to keep the telltale wobble out of her voice, but it proved only partially successful. "The truth is...I've been getting nightmares about what you might do. And I'll wake up s-so scared that something awful is going to happen that I won't be able to go back to sleep. And then I go to school and worry about it more." She felt the tears running down her cheeks. "I can't help the fact that I worry about Hawkmon, you know. It's not like I can just choose to stop caring about him."

Silence.

"Listen - I'm not trying to make any demands, here. I'm really not _that_ stupid. I would just appreciate it if you could tell me exactly what you want from me. _Tell_ me what you want me to say, and how you want me to act. Because I can also be a reasonable person if I have to be." She chuckled sadly. "Well, a reasonable _insect_ , anyway. But...the insect called Inoue Miyako Is pretty close to having a nervous breakdown, and she can't really afford to have one right now. So...what do you think? Is she stepping out of line?"

Another long pause.

"I don't know," he said.

"You don't know what?"

"I don't know what I want from you." He finally turned around, and she was relieved to find that he didn't seem angry. "I really don't spend that much time thinking about you, I'm afraid."

She let out a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. "Of course not." Still not ready to look at him, she focused on a rock that was off to the side. "But...can you? Think about it, I mean. As a favor."

"I suppose," he said.

"I would really, really appreciate it."

She heard his boots crunching on the short grass of the clearing. "Are you going to stop crying now?"

Embarrassed, she wiped the tears away, laughing awkwardly. "Sorry - I was just really nervous. But I'm totally done with the crying."

When he spoke again, his voice was much closer. "Are you actually going to look at me?"

"Do I have to?"

"No," he said, sounding put-out. "But...I would appreciate it."

Reluctantly, she looked at him, only to find that he wasn't wearing his glasses. Really, that just made it worse.

"You really find me that terrifying?" he asked.

"Pretty much." She began to fiddle with the front of her top. "Isn't that what you want?"

"You're shaking," he noted.

She smiled apologetically. "I told you already, didn't I? It's not exactly voluntary."

"You must be having some very unpleasant nightmares."

"Nightmares are pretty unpleasant by definition."

He smirked, and she wondered if he really was just toying with her. She took a deep, steadying breath.

He said, "In the interest of maintaining this sudden candor of yours, I do have a few questions."

"I'm here to serve," she said hesitantly, and instantly wondered if it has sounded sarcastic. She hadn't meant it to be, but...with the Kaiser, you could never really tell.

His smirk, however, did not falter. "Shall we sit?"

She sat, and he followed suit. Thankfully, he kept a good meter of distance between them.

"You said you meant some of what you said to me when you had the fever."

"...Yeah, I did."

"Which parts of it were sincere?"

Was he being serious? She sighed before saying, "I don't trust you, for one thing. And I'm definitely beginning to think that you get a kick out of keeping me on my toes." She picked a piece of grass and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. "And...I pretty much have given up. Whatever game you're playing, you can be sure that you've won it."

"So you meant most of it, then?"

She nodded. "I don't think I'll stop expecting better of you, though. That was just the fever talking."

"Is that so?" he said, tone mocking.

She did her best to ignore the way her stomach began to sink. "Yeah. I can be angry at you for what you've already done, but it isn't fair to be angry at you for things you _might_ do. I'm trying not to have any expectations."

A chuckle. "And how is that working out for you?"

"Not very well," she admitted. "But I am trying."

"Hmm..." he said, and she was sure that he was still mocking her.

"Did I...say something wrong again?" She looked at him, and found that the smirk was still there. "If I made you angry, please tell me."

His smirk widened. "Do I look angry?"

"I guess not," she said. "But it's hard to tell with you sometimes."

"I wonder which it could be, then."

He was totally angry. She had messed up again.

Instinctively she looked away and pressed her hand to her stomach. Digging her fingers in, she attempted to quell the rising feeling that she knew would lead to a panic attack. She hadn't had panic attacks since she was a little kid, and she was starting to remember why she had hated them so much.

"What are you doing?" he asked, the dark amusement suddenly gone from his voice.

"Panicking," she said. "Well...trying not to, I guess."

"...Does doing that help?"

She tried to keep her breathing steady and even. "It used to when I was younger." She closed her eyes. "I haven't had an attack in years, though, so I don't know if it'll help anymore."

"Doesn't it hurt?"There was real concern in his voice now, and it made Miyako laugh.

She knew she sounded unhinged. And hey, maybe she was. "That's kinda the whole point, Ichijouji-kun."

She felt a hand grabbing a hold of her wrist and yank it, forcefully brining her fingers away from her stomach. Opening her eyes, she saw that there was a deep frown on his face. "Stop it," he commanded.

Her hand trembled violently in his grasp, and her breathing became more rapid.

She didn't want this to happen. She didn't want him to see her like this. Hadn't she already let him win too many times?

In a fit of mindless desperation, she used her other hand to pinch her leg as hard as she possibly could, and she inhaled hard through clenched teeth at the sharp, searing pain. But, at the same time, she felt her breathing start to normalize, and the knot in her belly relaxing. Suddenly exhausted, her wrist went limp in the Kaiser's hand.

"You can let go now," she said.

He did.

"Sorry about that." She grinned a very strained grin. "Man, I'd completely forgotten how much those suck." She laughed again. "But hey, at least I didn't pass out this time. That would've been super embarrassing." She forced herself to grin wider. "Any more questions you wanna ask?"

"Was that...my fault?" he asked, and for the first time it was him who was looking away.

"...Pretty much, yeah."

He was silent for several long moments, staring down at the ground, then he reached up and took off his goggles, setting them down beside him. "You were right," he said, at length. "What you said made me angry."

"Then why didn't you just say so when I asked?" Miyako asked, trying not to let her outrage increase her volume too much.

He smiled bitterly. "What would be the fun in that?"

She remembered, then, how he'd made Daisuke think that he'd captured them all, and then made him choose which of their Bakemon doppelgangers got to live. "You're cruel, Ichijouji-kun."

His smile faded, replaced by a cold expression. "And you're not?" he asked.

Miyako opened her mouth to deny it, but paused before the words left her mouth. She remembered all the people she'd caused to cry over the years, and the times she'd made Daisuke so angry that he'd yelled at her. She remembered how she always made Iori worried and hurt. How much she frustrated her parents. "I don't do it on purpose," she said, feebly.

He didn't say anything.

"Can we maybe talk about something else?" she asked.

He frowned again. "Such as?"

"Okay. How about...what's your favorite food?"

"I don't just have one," he said.

"So what are your favorite _foods_?"

He sighed, and his eyebrows creased in thought. "Sukiyaki, oden, and ice-cream."

Miyako found herself smiling slightly. "I have to say - you don't really strike me as the ice-cream type."

He flushed. "I don't see why it's so unusual to like sweet things."

"Hey, I can understand liking sweet things." She lifted her hand and began to tick off her fingers. "My favorite food is cake. But I also really like ramen, omurice, futomaki, and hamburgers. And ice-cream, even though it's not as good as cake."

"You really like cake that much?"

She nodded. "When I was younger, I used to have these fantasies about my mother baking me hundreds of different kinds of cakes. And, in my little dream-world, I'd just spend the whole day eating them, with nobody interrupting me except to bring _more_ cake."

"That would probably make you sick."

She shrugged. "Probably. That's why I've never gone through with it in real life."

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it soon after; one of those odd, constipated expressions made its way onto his face.

"What is it?" she asked.

He bit his lip for a moment, then said, "I could make you a cake."

Miyako felt her mouth go slack, but she composed herself quickly. "Um...if you want to. You like to bake?"

"I guess," he said.

"I'd just think that you'd have your slaves cook for you."

His looked at her with genuine incredulity. "What could digimon know about human food?"

"They love it, for one thing."

"And that doesn't make them qualified to prepare it. Anyway, it's an eyesore to have them running around for such a stupid reason. I'd much rather just make the food myself."

Miyako suddenly realized something. "So...wait a second. The first time that you held me prisoner..." Her eyebrows creased in disbelief. " _You_ were the one who cooked that food?"

"That's right," he said self-consciously.

Miyako began to laugh.

"Was it really that bad?" he said, a small smile on his face. It surprised her so much that she immediately stopped.

"Bad?"

It was only a second before the smile was gone, replaced by the constipated expression. The Kaiser rubbed the back of his neck. "That is why you're laughing, isn't it?"

"Are you kidding? It wasn't bad at all."

"...Really?"

"Yeah really. Although I probably shouldn't be saying so, because the last thing you need is anything to inflate your ego any more than it already is." She chuckled. "I laughed because I just started imagining you cooking while wearing that outfit."

"My ego is not _inflated_."

The hostility of that comment sucked all the mirth out of the situation, leaving Miyako cold. "Sorry," she said quietly, wishing that she could find somewhere private to tell herself off.

There was a sigh. "Are you going to start panicking again?"

"I don't think so," she said.

Another sigh. "Listen..." A pause. "I do get angry; I can't promise you that I won't. But I can promise that...unless you do something _really_ unforgivable...getting angry is all I'll do."

"...Okay."

"I mean it," he said emphatically. "I don't mind if you're a little bit afraid of me. But what's the point of talking to you if you're too terrified to say anything remotely interesting?"

She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that he wanted to talk to her at she kept that to herself. "So what exactly would qualify as 'unforgivable'?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "But it wouldn't be something you _say_. It would have to be an action of some kind." A little hesitantly: "Does that help at all?"

Not for the first time, Miyako was struck by how awkward he was. She wasn't the most sensitive person in the world, obviously, and she certainly had her own share of social problems. But even so, she could recognize social issues in others. Thinking back to one of his interviews - the one which had at first struck her as immensely cool - she could see the hints plain as day. Most of the time, he'd just smiled and said, "I guess so," and occasionally pointed out that the reporter's question was pointless, albeit in a very polite way. Now that she really thought about it, he hadn't seemed at all comfortable - like he'd rehearsed his answers ahead of time. He lacked the spontaneous ease that was apparent in interviews with more traditional celebrities.

Suddenly, she really wanted to make him blush.

"It does help," she said, and leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. The flush that came in its wake was immensely satisfying.

"T-that's good," he said.

The next thought that came to her mind should have probably been kept there, but it sprung forth from her mouth all the same. "You know, you're the most confusing person I've ever met."

"That doesn't surprise me; I can only imagine how difficult it must be for an insect to comprehend true perfection." His words supplied an interesting contrast to his ever-deepening blush.

"Maybe," she said, finding herself unable to take her eyes off of him. "Or maybe it's because you can switch between being adorable and terrifying at the drop of a hat."

"Adorable?" he sputtered incredulously. "You must be joking."

"I'm not," she said. "One second you're causing me panic attacks and the next you're making me wanna kiss you until you can't stop blushing."

She didn't knew which was worse, to be honest.

He blinked at her, clearly unable to respond.

She yawned. "Do you mind if I go home and take a nap? I think I may fall asleep if I stay here much longer."

He still didn't say anything, but shook his head.

"Thanks," she said, and pushed herself to her feet.

* * *

The Kaiser stared after Miyako as she walked away, his thoughts racing

The entire conversation had been incredibly confusing, if he was perfectly honest. And she said that _he_ was the confusing one.

She gate now, and, before he could stop himself, he got to his feet and yelled out, "Wait!"

She turned to face him, expression expectant.

Swallowing, he said, "You can sleep at my base, if you want. I mean...nobody will be able to bother you there. Except me, I suppose. But I won't."

She shook her head. "I'd rather not, Ichijouji-kun."

He hated how warm his cheeks felt, hated the intense desire he had to _order_ her to stay. To threaten her until she agreed. But all he said was, "Goodbye then."

And so she left.

He put his head in his hands in an attempt to calm himself down.

_"I can't help the fact that I worry about Hawkmon, you know. It's not like I can just choose to stop caring about him."_

He didn't buy that. He'd chosen to stop caring about a lot of things, so it was perfectly reasonable to expect her to do the same. If she couldn't even _try_ , then maybe she deserved the nightmares.

But...seeing her in such pain, and knowing that it was his fault...

She'd _smiled_ at him. And while he may have brought her to this place for a very specific reason...

_"Whatever game you're playing, you can be sure that you've won it."_

No, he couldn't be sure. Because he wasn't even sure what the game _was_ anymore, let alone what entailed victory. Truthfully, it felt very much like he was losing.

 _"When I was younger, I used to have these fantasies about my mother baking me hundreds of different kinds of cakes. And, in my little dream-world, I'd just spend the whole day eating them, with nobody interrupting me except to bring_ _**more** _ _cake."_

His chest hurt.

He walked to the edge of the clearing and entered the dense jungle. This had been where he'd wanted to take her, but, in the end...

She had said that she wanted to kiss him. And, if he went through with his original plan, she probably change her mind.

His chest hurt.

He walked until he reached another clearing, this one populated by two digimon: a Tyrannomon and a Hawkmon. Stalking over to the Hawkmon, he said, "Your partner was here today."

Even with the red-glowing eyes, the Hawkmon's excitement was evident. "Was she? May I see her, master?"

He smirked. "There's been a change of plans, luckily for you. We're heading back to the base."

Both the Hawkmon and the Tyrannomon snapped to attention. "Yes sir," they said.

He'd have to find another digimon to evolve while under the influence of a dark ring _,_ he thought, summoning an Airdramon. The Agumon would do, he supposed.

"Hawkmon," he said. "You will ride on the Airdramon with me."

"Yes, master."

Once they were up in the air, he continued, "I have some questions about your partner."

"And I will answer them, master."

"Of course you will." The warmth in his cheeks returned with a vengeance, and he turned his head so that the Hawkmon couldn't see. "Tell me..." His fingers drifted to the spot where Miyako had kissed his cheek, and, for a moment, he could imagine that her lips were still there.

"What sort of cake does Miyako-san like?"


	9. Chapter 9

It was easy to make to a cake: flour, eggs, oil, sugar, milk, baking powder and spices, all in simple, easy-to-understand proportions. He understood the chemistry behind the cake; he understood what made it rise, what made the batter become firm and moist, what made it brown slightly at the top, and what made it taste so good. All these things came to him with practically no effort.

The person he was making it for, however, was far more difficult to understand.

_"What do you know about her family?"_

_"She's the youngest of four children, and her parents own a grocery store."_

_"And...what are her interests?"_

_"She's very interested in computers, master. And it seemed for a time as if she was also interested in music production, but she hasn't done anything with that for quite a while. I daresay it's because she's so busy with schoolwork."_

_"..."_

_"Is there anything else, master?"_

_"I don't understand why she cares about you so much."_

_"I'm afraid that I don't understand it, either. All I'm certain of is that I'm very fond of her as well."_

_"Tch. Go back to your cell."_

_"Yes, master."_

He poured the batter into a greased pan and slid it into the oven, all the while feeling as if he was performing an exercise in futility. She would probably laugh at him for doing something so frivolous - it seemed to amuse her, imagining that he could be occupied by activities that many people indulged in on a regular basis.

Perhaps she did realize that he was indeed on a different level than her and her friends, even if she wasn't willing to admit it. That would explain why she found the thought of him cooking so odd.

_"I laughed because I just started imagining you cooking while wearing that outfit."_

Blushing at the sudden memory, he looked down at his flour-covered gloves. He then pulled them off, embarrassment making the blush even more intense.

She did have a point with that one, he supposed.

He sighed.

Inoue Miyako was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, and it was infuriating. He wanted to make her smile, but also he wanted her to be afraid of him. He wanted to make her laugh, but he also wanted her to mind what she said. On some level, he realized that he probably wasn't being entirely fair, but he was still convinced that she had brought this all on herself. It had been her, after all, who had been stupid enough to get captured in the first place. And if that had never happened, then he wouldn't be in this situation.

_"I would just really appreciate it if you could tell me exactly what you want from me."_

What he wanted more than anything was to _not_ want anything from her. As it stood, he just knew that he _did_ want something, but he had no earthly clue what it could be.

He knew, for example, that he wanted to kiss her. But that was all he had been able to deduce so far. Was it because she was pretty? He'd seen lots of girls who he guessed could be called pretty, but he'd never wanted to kiss any of _them_.

He took a deep breath and sat down at the kitchen counter, willing himself to stop thinking about it. Because thinking about it just made him want to see her, and he wouldn't be able to see her for several more hours. He wasn't going to make her miss school, after all.

No matter how much he was tempted to.

He left the kitchen and headed to the control room. And, once he was sitting, he began to type. When the image he wanted to see came up on screen, he couldn't help but grin. It was always nice to know that at least some things were still going his way.

"What are you going to do with him?" asked Wormmon timidly.

The Kaiser chuckled. "I'm going to do a little experiment."

"If you wanted to...you could experiment on me."

That made the Kaiser sneer, partly because it was patently ridiculous, and partly because he hated the way that his stomach twisted at the thought. "What could I possibly stand to gain by experimenting on _you_?"

Wormmon said nothing.

The Agumon on the screen struggled helplessly against the mighty talons holding him in place.

The Kaiser's grin returned.

* * *

It happened like clockwork. When Miyako got home from school, the Kaiser's email was waiting on her D-terminal: short and terse as usual.

Then, after a few hours of studying, she went to the coordinates he had provided, and found herself back in his base. Unlike previous times, he wasn't sitting in his chair, and was instead leaning against one of the walls. Furthermore, he was dressed in normal clothes.

He straightened when he saw her. "Hello," he said, and, if Miyako didn't know any better, she could have sworn that the greeting was almost...cheerful.

"Hey," she replied.

He smiled.

 _That is so weird,_ she thought.

"How has your day been so far?"

She blinked. "Good enough, I guess. Why do you ask?"

Walking up to her, he said, "No reason," and put his hand on her cheek, leaning in to give her a short kiss.

"You're acting weird," she said once he has pulled away, unable to keep herself from blushing.

His smile didn't falter. "Am I?"

Miyako's eyebrow twitched. "You're planning something, aren't you?"

Finally, he gave her a smirk. "Maybe. Though it's nothing that you should be concerned over."

She glowered. "Don't sound so pleased about it."

"Why not?"

"Because it's probably something horrible."

He chuckled in that smug way he often did, then sighed, reaching forward to stroke her hair behind her ear. "That's entirely a matter of perspective."

Blushing once more in spite of herself, she crossed her arms and huffed. "Are you just gonna gloat all day or what?" In the back of her mind, she wondered if he would blush if she played with _his_ hair.

He grabbed her wrist and tugged her lightly as he began to walk, saying, "I made something for you."

Too flabbergasted to say anything, she allowed herself to be lead. The way they were going was entirely unfamiliar to her, but they eventually reached a simple, unassuming door. Ken opened it, and she found herself standing in...a kitchen. A really big, really clean, really pretty kitchen.

But still just a kitchen.

"You weren't kidding when you said you like to cook, huh?"

"I never said that." But there was real pride in his voice when he added, "It's nice, isn't it?"

"Yeah, " she said, moving towards the granite counter in the middle of the room and running her fingers over its smooth, shining surface. "This would cost a fortune in the Real World." She whirled around to face him again. "You seriously designed this? I mean, not just the architecture, but the programming?"

He smirked.

She sighed. "It looks as if the 'Great Miyako-sama' has been deluding herself."

Walking over to the refrigerator that was close to the stove, he said, "I could've guessed as much. What particular delusion are you referring to?"

"I thought that I could write a program just as good as one of yours. So much for that." Then, realizing exactly what he had said, she exclaimed, "Hey! You don't have to be a jerk about it!"

His back was now to her, and he appeared to be taking something out of the fridge. "I wasn't being a jerk."

She rolled her eyes.

"It was only a matter of time before you realized the true difference in our levels," he continued, turning around. "Better sooner than later, I suppose." In his hands was a large white plate with a medium-sized cake atop it.

"Seriously?" she asked, the shock managing to dispel her indignation.

He set it down on the counter. "Don't misunderstand - you only gave me the idea to make one, and, since you like them so much, it seemed convenient to give you some."

Miyako sighed. "Didn't you just say a few minutes ago that you made it _for_ me?"

Blushing, he said, "You must have misheard," and went to a cabinet above one of the smaller counters to get two side plates. He then got a knife and two spoons from a drawer nearby.

"If you say so," she muttered, eying the cake with suspicion. And, okay, it looked really good.

He set the plates and cutlery down on the counter as well, and pulled out a stool from beneath it. "Would you like to sit?"

"Sure," she said, and pulled out a stool for herself. His face fell a little.

Sitting down, she wondered if he'd pulled out the chair _for_ her. But that couldn't be right; why would he bother?

He cut a piece of the cake and maneuvered it expertly onto one of the plates, handing it to her along with one of the spoons. She took it gingerly and set it down in front of her, feeling inexplicably awkward. It wasn't as if this was any weirder than anything else he'd done, if she thought about it. It wasn't even the first time he'd made her food.

"Thanks for the food," she said, before a sudden, horrifying thought made its way into her head. She took a purposeful bite of the cake in order to dispel it.

She really needed to stop reading so much into things.

The cake was very, very good, and she let out an involuntary noise of satisfaction. Embarrassed, she covered her mouth.

"Is it bad?" asked Ken, frowning slightly.

She swallowed the mouthful with relish. "It's _amazing_."

The frown was gone in an instant, replaced by a deep blush. He also averted his eyes, his hands clasping together in his lap. "That's good," he mumbled.

Miyako's heart began to race, her mouth falling open.

Noticing her flabbergasted expression, he said, "What?" and the frown returned.

She shut her mouth with a clack of teeth. "N-nothing. I've just...never seen you look like that before."

"Like what?"

She began to fiddle with her spoon. "You just looked really cute. Like, unbelievably cute."

And back came the blush. "...I see."

Miyako looked down at the cake on her plate, then back to him, and, before she could stop herself she said, "Do you like me or something?"

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

Taking a deep breath, she figured that there was no point holding back now. "Do you _like_ me, Ichijouji-kun?"

For a moment he didn't say anything, the dumbfounded expression planted firmly in place. But, after a few seconds, his eyebrows began to draw together. Finally he said, "Don't be absurd."

But Miyako wasn't convinced. "I don't think I am. I mean...you've been acting weirdly from the start. Taking me to watch a sunset? Going to the beach? Taking care of me when I'm sick?" She gestured to the cake. "Making me food I like? And that's not even counting all the kissing." She began to roll the spoon between her thumb and forefinger. "Is this a date?"

He was starting to look downright angry now. "You're reading far too much into things."

She bit her lip, then said, "Don't get me wrong - I don't _want_ you to like me. I'm just saying..."

"It sounds to me as if that's _exactly_ what you want. Otherwise you wouldn't be misunderstanding the situation so completely."

"Hell no, it isn't! If this is what you act like when you just find me _interesting_..."

"My, you seem to think you know _so much_ about me." There was a sharp coldness in his tone, and Miyako instantly regretted her words. "Please elaborate: how _do_ you think I would act if I _liked_ an insect like you?"

A smart person would've just eaten their delicious cake and kept their mouth shut, Miyako reflected. "You know what? Nevermind."

"No really, I insist."

She shrugged stiffly. "I guess I just think you'd be really clingy and jealous and controlling. You're not exactly good boyfriend material."

Nothing.

She looked very pointedly down at her barely-eaten piece of cake.

"Are you going to finish that?" he asked softly.

"Y-yeah," she replied. "It's way too good to waste."

"I'll wash your plate when you're done."

She looked at him, but his expression was inscrutable. "I don't mind washing it myself, Ichijouji-kun."

"You're my guest, so it's my responsibility." His tone made it clear that this was the end of the discussion.

Deciding not to press it, she started working on her cake once more, allowing the sweet, moist confection to distract her from the very intense feeling that she'd just made a terrible mistake. Ken said nothing, and didn't use the plate that he had brought for himself. Instead, he knitted his hands together and rested his chin on them, staring off into space.

Miyako gratefully swallowed the final bite. "Thanks for letting me have some," she said.

He didn't reply; he simply cleared the plates and took them to the sink. It was incredibly unnerving.

"So...can I go now?"

There was a soft clatter as he put one of the plates on the drying wrack. "If you want to."

"Okay then. I'll see you...whenever."

She didn't exactly _run_ away, but she came pretty damn close.

* * *

_They're back in the elevator._

_The Kaiser is taunting her, and she's taunting him back, and Miyako is getting so sick of it. Then, when she sees his hands curling into fists, she's struck by a sudden clarity about what needs to be done._

_"Oh," she says, feeling an intoxicating sense of power. "I forgot to do something." Reaching forward, she covers the fist with her hand, caressing the knuckles with her fingers. She hears a sharp intake of breath, and she takes a step forward. Using her other hand, she reaches up and removed his goggles, tossing them lightly to the floor._

_The doors opens behind her, but she doesn't care. She presses her chest tightly against his and wrapps her arms around his neck. Looking into his eyes, she can see anger and confusion, and she starts to lean in even further. When her lips are barely touching his, she said, "Thank you for taking care of me when I was sick."_

_Then, she kisses him._

_It isn't a soft one, either; she practically shoves her tongue into his mouth. He makes a muffled "mpff" sound, clearly surprised, and she moans purposefully in response. She brakes off the kiss just as forcefully, moving her mouth over to nibble at one of his earlobes._

_He sucks in a breath, and she can feel his hands come up to rest her shoulders. He doesn't push her away, though._

_"Wh-wha-" he splutters, but his words got lost in a rather helpless-sounding gasp when Miyako uses her fingers to trace over the shell of his other ear._

_"Hmm," she sighs, pressing her pelvis very firmly against his. "It looks like Ichijouji-kun really **is** a boy." She kisses his cheek and giggles. "You know...I think I may just want you to punish me." The strange haze has descending on her brain, and the little voice of protest at the back of her mind becomes fully silent. If the Kaiser is going to insist on punishing her, then she'll make sure that Hawkmon isn't involved._

_She pulls back just enough that she can look him in the eyes. "You...do still want to punish me, don't you?"_

_He nods dumbly._

_She moans and strains against him, suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer lust that's coursing through her body._

_"I want you," she says, and gives him a short but thorough kiss. "I want you so much."_

_And that's when he says, "It's time to wake up."_

* * *

The first thing she thought when she woke up was: thank goodness it was just a dream.

The next thing was: ugh, is this some kind of corny shojo manga?

And finally: _oh crap, what's the time?_

She grabbed her glasses and looked hurriedly at her alarm; it wasn't even four in the morning yet.

Again? She rolled over onto her side and buried her face in her pillow.

She curled into a fetal position, willing herself to put the contents of the dream out of her mind. There was that odd heat in the pit of her stomach, and she had the strangest desire to talk to him. To see if he was awake as well.

Eventually she did manage to fall back to sleep, but the dreams she had were no more restful.

Honestly, she would have preferred nightmares.


	10. Chapter 10

The test came and went _._ It was, in the end, something of an anticlimax. But she supposed that just meant that all the studying had paid off.

When she checked her D-terminal, she was surprised to find that the Kaiser had sent her a message. She was sure that she'd hurt his feeling the day before, and hadn't been entirely sure what to expect. A part of her had been expecting the silent treatment, or at least hoping for it. No such luck.

The message read: **Meet me at 4:00 PM.**

The coordinates were familiar to her, although she couldn't pin her finger on why. She took in a deep breath, pocketed the D-terminal, and made her way to the train station. She didn't know what the Kaiser was planning, but at least one aspect of the nightmare of the past two weeks was over. Maybe she'd be able to keep her cool this time.

She'd have to wait and see.

* * *

It turned out that the coordinates were familiar for a reason: she recognized the field of flowers that she'd previously only seen from above. Gate coordinates that were close together often had only a few digits that deviated.

The Kaiser was standing with the flowers around his feet, dressed in a pair of black shorts and a grey T-shirt. A basket was hanging from his shoulder, and he was carrying what appeared to be a blanket in his left arm.

A picnic, apparently. Color her surprised.

The first thing she thought to say was: "I thought you were angry at me."

His expression remained unreadable. "Why would you think that?"

"I dunno," she said, shrugging. "You just seemed angry when I left yesterday."

"Well, I'm not, so you don't need to worry about it." He turned around and began to walk, and Miyako soon realized that he was going towards the lake. She hurried to follow him.

The lake was just as beautiful as Miyako remembered it to be - perhaps even more so, now that she was closer. The flowers, which had looked almost like a colorful blanket from up on the cliff, were actually several inches tall. She could feel them brushing against her legs through the material of her pants.

Ken stopped walking when they were very near to the water's edge, barely a step away from where the flowers stopped and the mud of the bank began. He set down the basket and unfurled the blanket he'd brought - she could now see that it had a plaid pattern, like something out of a postcard. Soon, there was a space large enough for both of them to sit comfortably without getting their clothes dirty. Miyako took that as a cue to sit.

When he joined her, he said, "You thought this place was pretty, so I thought you might like to come back."

Miyako looked at him thoughtfully. No matter which way she sliced it, this was _definitely_ a date, even if her present company would never admit it. Maybe he really was just that oblivious, she mused, watching him unpack two bentos from the basket.

"Ichijouji-kun really likes nature, huh?" she said.

"I suppose," he replied, now taking out two bottles of water.

Miyako sighed in exasperation. "But he doesn't particularly like giving straight answers to questions." She reached for a bento and balanced it on her lap. "Are you afraid that I'll try to exploit your love of nature as a weakness?" She deepened her voice in a very poor imitation of Daisuke. "'Hey guys - let's go destroy some forests instead of Dark Towers. That'll really annoy the Digimon Kaiser!'"

He sighed as well. "Yes, I like nature." A smirk. "Is that a straight-forward enough answer for you?"

She nodded. "Much better." Opening the lid of her bento, she snapped apart the chopsticks inside of it and used them to pick up a piece of shrimp tempura, biting into it.

Oh, _hell yes._

She polished off the entire batch of them in under five minutes, unable to keep a massive smile from spreading on her face. Her eyes had closed as she'd savored the last bite, and she opened them to find Ken blinking at her in disbelief. Blushing, she rubbed the back of her neck. "It's really good," she said.

He smiled then - a real smile - and said, "Miyako-san really likes food." With an expression like that on his face, Miyako had to remind herself exactly who it was she was talking to. It was difficult to believe that somebody like the Digimon Kaiser could look so innocent. Angelic, even.

She blushed a bit deeper, but found herself grinning in return. "Bingo," she said. "It's the best thing in the entire world." It took her a moment to realize that he hadn't so much as opened the lid of his own bento yet, and she began to pick at her rice self-consciously.

He obviously noticed, because he said, "I don't mind if you want to eat, Miyako-san. I'm glad that you like it so much."

"Ichijouji-kun..." she began, feeling as if she should say something, but at a loss for what it should be. She set down her chopsticks.

"Yes?"

It came to her with a sudden clarity. "I...don't really know how I should act when you're like this."

His smile morphed instantly into a slight frown. "What exactly do you mean?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know how to act when you're being all considerate like this. Can you tell me what you want me to do so I don't have to worry about upsetting you?"

His frown deepened. "You weren't having any trouble a few seconds ago."

She shrugged once more. "Yeah, well, you're being really nice for once, so I'm not getting angry."

"And was I getting upset?"

"I...don't think so?"

"I think you're at least intelligent enough to draw your own conclusions from that."

Miyako snorted. "Gee, thanks." She finally took a big dollop of the sticky rice and put it her mouth, and didn't even bother to swallow it before she said, "I think that's the highest praise you've ever given me."

Mouth twitching in distaste, he replied, "Don't talk with your mouth full - it's disgusting."

She gave him a mock salute with her left hand. "Yes sir, Digimon Kaiser-sama."

Contrary to her expectations, this was what finally got rid Ken's ever-deepening frown. He sighed in mock exasperation. "Now you're just _trying_ to be obnoxious."

She responded with a mock sigh of her own. "Well there goes that plan. I really shouldn't expect to get anything past you, huh?"

He smirked. "Absolutely not." The lid of his bento was finally removed, and Ken got to work on his own portion - -far more slowly and elegantly than Miyako had. But that was something Miyako had expected.

The awkwardness she had feared was oddly absent, and she couldn't really put her finger on why. Perhaps it was because she was starting to get better at figuring out what she should and shouldn't say, or perhaps it was because she was keeping the thought of Hawkmon, her friends, and what he might do to either, firmly out of her mind.

She just had to focus on how pretty this place was, and how good the food was, and how Ken wasn't being a total jerk for once. If she did that, then she could probably avoid screwing up.

With that in mind, she popped a squid-shaped sausage into her mouth with relish, thoroughly enjoying the salty taste. She looked at Ken, who was just now working through his second piece of tempura, and was struck again by just how adorable he looked. "Thanks for making this, Ichijouji-kun," she said, and meant it.

He swallowed the piece of tempura he'd been chewing, his cheeks reddening a touch. "It was no trouble."

Putting down her chopsticks, she looked up at the sky above them - a clear blue with smatterings of fluffy white clouds. "I'd offer to make you something in return, but cooking is really not one of my strengths. I mean, I'm good at making tea, since I was kind of obsessed with it a couple of years ago(1), and i can make a passable miso soup. And...hmm...there's something else." She snapped one of her fingers when it came to her. "Aha! I can use the rice cooker to make rice." Looking back at him, she grinned sheepishly. "But that's about it."

His expression softened into another one of his small smiles. "Then I suppose you can make me some tea, should the opportunity to do so arise."

She winked and gave him a thumbs-up. "Tea it is, then." Suddenly, she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "I should warn you, though - if you turn out to be better than me at _tea-making_ , I will _cry_."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're that proud of your abilities?"

A solemn nod. "Oh yes. In fact, I would go so far as to call myself the _Tea Kaiser_." She smiled impishly. "You shall soon learn to fear my skills, Ichijouji-kun. Mark my words."

"I'm terrified already," he replied, smile widening. And then he burst into soft laughter, covering his mouth his hand.

It was infectious, and Miyako soon found herself joining him. It felt good to laugh, even if it was under strange circumstances, and she felt lighter once their laughter started to fade away into silence. For a moment, she considered how pleasant his laughter was when it wasn't the result of mocking or humiliating somebody else. Why couldn't he laugh like that more often?

A question popped insistently into her mind, and she was pretty sure it was a mistake to give into the sudden impulse to ask it. But...

"Ne, Ichijouji-kun..."

"Yes?"

But if she didn't ask, her curiosity would kill her for days.

"What do you want to do when you're older?"

He looked a little surprised, but he thankfully didn't look angry. "Do you mean what I want to do as a profession?"

She nodded.

She was expecting him to use one of his usual evasions: asking her why she wanted to know, or telling her that it was none of her business. But he didn't.

"I want to be an archeologist."

She blinked. "Really?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, really. Is it so hard to believe?"

"N-no. I guess I just wasn't expecting it."

He snorted. "I suppose you were expecting me to say that I want to rule the entire world with an iron fist."

She tilted her head to the side. "In the Digital World, maybe. You seem pretty obsessed with conquering it."

"I don't intend to stay here forever," he said. "This is just a distraction before I go back to the Real World and become a good little member of the hive."

"You say things like that, but apparently like humanity enough to want to learn about what it did in the past. Seems kinda contradictory to me."

He looked at her pointedly. "Do you have to respect ants in order to admire an anthill? Do you have to _like_ them?"

"I guess not."

"It's really quite simple: when humans organize into groups they can accomplish great things. But that does not make them any less pathetic as individuals."

Miyako crossed her arms over her chest. "Did you have to learn to be this cynical, or were you just born that way?"

Picking up his chopsticks, he reached into his bento for one of his sausage-squids. "It's realism, not cynicism."

Miyako rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Ichijouji-kun." It took a moment for him to finish his sausage, at which point she continued, "So what do you plan to study at university?"

"Business economics," he said, surprising her again with a straight answer.

"How will that help you with archaeology, though?" she asked, nonplussed.

He smiled bitterly. "It won't. I _want_ to be an archaeologist, but I'm not foolish enough to think that it's a practical option."

"That's..." Miyako wasn't sure how his confession made her feel. All she knew for sure that such a statement coming from him - a person who was so extraordinary - made her uncomfortable. "You're seriously giving up before you've even tried?"

His expression became cold, but his tone remained neutral. "Sometimes one has to in order to be responsible."

She almost pointed out that responsible people didn't run away from home and leave their parents devastated, but even she knew better than to let that one slip.

"And what do you plan to do with _your_ life, Miyako-san?"

She tapped her chin, thoughtfully. "Well, my dream is to be a music producer. But I think it's safer to get a degree in computer science." She began to play with a strand of her hair. "When I was younger, I used to think that I wanted to be a housewife. But I realized last year that there's no way I could do that - not without becoming one of those unfulfilled mothers who lives vicariously through her children."

Ken was oddly silent at that.

"So yeah, nothing extravagant for the great Inoue Miyako-sama. I'm sure you're very disappointed."

"Mortified," he said.

For a second, Miyako began to think very hard. Then she said, "Have you ever considered becoming a forensic scientist? It involves similar skills to archaeology, but it probably pays much better."

At first Ken didn't respond, but then he started to snicker.

"Hey!" she huffed. "I don't think it's _that_ dumb."

He shook his head. "It's not that it's dumb. It's just..." A sigh pressed past his lips, his mirth disappearing. "My father's a detective."

"...Oh."

"You're right that it's more stable than being an archaeologist, but it still doesn't pay that well. No career in law enforcement does."

From the way he said it, Miyako could tell that this was something that bothered him. She wondered why that was, considering that he probably didn't have to worry about tuition all that much. But she didn't press it. Instead, she looked out over the water, its surface so still that it almost looked like glass, and far clearer than fresh water had any right to be. Then, pushing her bento aside, she stood up and began to unzip her pants.

"W-what are you doing?" Ken sputtered.

"I'm going swimming."

He swallowed and averted his eyes. "But...you don't have a bathing suit."

"Oh come on, Ichijouji-kun. I'd be wearing _less_ if I was in a bathing suit." Her pants dropped to the floor, and she went about removing her vest, leaving her in nothing but her panties and undershirt. "It's way too pretty not to swim."

He still refused to look at her.

Removing her glasses, she set them down on-top of her clothes pile. "Watch these for me, okay? I'm pretty much blind without them." She then walked over to the water's edge and dipped her feet in.

It wasn't _that_ cold _,_ she insisted to herself. Mustering her resolve, she waded in even further. The incline of the bank was surprisingly steep, and took only a few steps before she was covered up to her torso. "Okay," she said aloud. "It's pretty damn cold." Pumping her fist in the air, she yelled, "But the cold's not enough to defeat the great Miyako-sama!" and dunked her head under the water.

When she resurfaced she began to shiver, but she forced herself to paddle around in the water in order to get her muscles working.

"If you catch a cold, you only have yourself to blame," chimed Ken. Miyako looked over to where he was sitting, but couldn't make out anything more than a vaguely human-shaped blur.

" _Can_ you even catch colds in the Digital World?" she asked, turning around and swimming towards the bank.

"I...don't actually know," he conceded. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he said, "Your hair is really long."

Miyako took a stand of it between her thumb and forefinger, holding it out so that it stretched across the length of her arm. She grinned. "I like it long; it makes me feel like a princess." She released the strand from her fingers, and it fell gracelessly against her shoulder. "And when I swim, it makes me feel like a mermaid." She laughed self-consciously. "It's pretty childish, now that I think about it."

"I guess," he said, and she wasn't sure if he was agreeing with her or not.

Struck be a sudden, devious thought, she swam even closer to where Ken was sitting. "Hey, Ichijouji-kun..."

"Yes?"

"Why don't you come in as well?"

"I don't think I'll do that." His tone was stern.

She pouted. "Aw, come on. Aren't you even a little bit tempted?"

"Not even remotely."

"I never expected the Digimon Kaiser to be afraid of a little bit of water," she goaded.

"I'm not afraid. I just don't feel like getting wet."

Miyako's mouth stretched into an evil little smile. "Fine then. If you're gonna be a stick-in-the-mud, I'm just gonna have to take matters into my own hands." And she did so literally, splashing Ken with as much water as she could muster.

For a moment she was quite upset that she couldn't see his face, because the expression on it was no doubt priceless. But then he growled, "You'll pay for that," and she felt the first stirrings of fear.

Had she gone too far?

He got up and headed to the water, and Miyako's heart skipped a beat. Soon, however, she found herself being assaulted by a massive wave of chilly water, and sputtered once it had passed.

Waist-deep in the water was Ken, who was now close enough that she could see his smirk. "You've picked an opponent who you simply cannot beat, Miyako-san."

She grinned in return. "Oh yeah? We'll just see about that." She brought her palms together and bent her elbows, frowning in a way that she hoped was intimidating. "Special water cannon-" she thrust her hands forward, aiming them directly at Ken's face, "ATTACK!"

The wave was dodged, however, and he came right back at her with a wave of his own. Miyako dived under the water to avoid it, only to be hit with another when she resurfaced. Wiping her dripping face, she said, "Okay. How about a truce?"

He made a sound of disbelief. "Just what do you take me for? I won't accept anything less than an unconditional surrender."

She let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, then. I surrender."

Wading towards her, he reached up and cupped her face between his hands. Then, leaning in very close, he said, "In that case, I'm entitled to claim my prize."

He kissed her, and Miyako didn't resist. The water was cold around her, but an insistent heat was spreading outwards from her belly, and she slipped her arms around his neck instinctively. She pressed herself more firmly against him, willing him to kiss her harder, to fan the fire inside of her. But he didn't respond to her silent plea, and Miyako moaned in frustration. Her imagination supplied her with tantalizing images - his hand trailing down, over her breasts and stomach, and down further still until it reached the place that she longed for him to touch. The heat spread to that very place in response to the fantasy, and she twisted her hands into his damp hair, deepening the kiss of her own volition.

This had to stop, she thought, but couldn't seem to get her body to move away from him. It felt so _good_ , even though she knew that it really shouldn't.

But then her mind supplied her with a single word - one that was enough to break the spell almost instantly.

_Hawkmon._

She broke away from the kiss. "I...uh." She took a deep breath. "I'm getting cold. I think I'll get out and try to get dry."

His eyes were out of focus, and he blinked several times before he responded. "Y-yeah. That's probably a good idea."

She exited the water as fast as she could, and she was soon shivering on the blanket. The fact that it had become damp where she was sitting made it that much worse. Ken soon joined her, though he seemed completely unfazed by the slight breeze blowing past them.

He cleared his throat. "Are you dry enough to put your pants back on?"

She hugged herself. "Not really."

"...Can you please put them on anyway?"

"If it's bothering you that much, I guess I can." She stood up reluctantly, shivering harder as more of her bare flash was exposed to the air. It proved difficult to pull the pants up her legs, what with the moisture causing the fabric to cling stubbornly to her skin, but she managed it eventually. She also put on her vest and boots.

The breeze became far more bearable, even if the wet patch where her panties met her pants was both uncomfortable and embarrassing, and she sat down once more. When she slipped on her glasses, she found that Ken had visibly relaxed.

He touched the watch on his wrist, and his clothes were replaced in a scurry of data by his Kaiser costume - clearly dry and rather warm-looking. "No fair," she said, teeth still chattering.

"It pays to be prepared," he said smugly, but took off his coat and handed it to her. "This should help if you're really that uncomfortable."

Tentatively, she took it and put it on. It was much too big for her, but it was definitely warm. "Thanks," she said.

"You look ridiculous," he replied, and got a glare for his efforts. The watch on his wrist transformed into his far bulkier wristband, which he lifted to his mouth. "Come to the coordinates I specified."

He was summoning one of his slaves _,_ Miyako realized. She hated it when he did that.

The Digimon he'd summoned - which turned out to be an Airdramon - arrived barely two minutes later, and it lowered its head to give them both access to board. Miyako hadn't flown on one of his slaves since the very first time he'd captured her, and she was not keen on doing it again. It made her feel dirty.

The Kaiser scooped up the blanket and everything on it, tying the top of it into a thick, chunky knot, and stepped onto the Airdramon. He then held out his hand, clearly wishing to help her up.

The juxtaposition of such gentlemanly behavior in front of a digimon slave was disconcerting, leaving Miyako speechless. Sighing in resignation, she reached for his hand and allowed him to guide her onto the Airdramon's bacl.

They rode together in silence, and arrived at his base a few minutes later. The last time Miyako had seen it from the outside, it had been "parked" in a large crater, but its true size and malevolent splendor were far more evident now that she could see it flying. It was both impressive and deeply horrifying.

Just how the hell were they going to beat this guy?

They docked in one of the many holes on the side of the base, departing from the Airdramon and walking over to a slightly raised bit of floor. On the wall beside it was a keypad, and the keys lit up as the Kaiser pressed them. With a jerk, the floor began to rise.

Miyako gave a yelp of surprise.

"It's stable, Miyako-san. As long as you don't move to the edge, you won't fall off."

She crossed her arms. "Yeah, alright. Just...warn me next time."

"'Next time' you'll already know, so warning you will be redundant."

"Right," she muttered. "So...you don't have any normal elevators?"

"No." His eyebrows creased. "Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "Just something from a dream," she replied.

It was oddly comforting to know that at least one of its details were wrong.

The platform came to a halt in a what she now recognized as the observation deck, and the Kaiser walked briskly towards its the exit. Miyako followed him as he lead her through a series of identical corridors, and they soon landed up in front of another one of his unassuming-looking doors. Opening it, he stepped inside.

Once she was inside as well, she realized that this must be his bedroom. Unlike the kitchen, it was decidedly Spartan: a single bed, only slightly larger than a normal twin, a plain wooden desk with a lamp on it, a functional-looking desk chair, and a bookcase.

Before she had the chance to ask him why he'd brought her there, he said, "There's a bathroom through the door to the right; you can take a shower there if you want. In any case, you should leave your clothes outside the door so I can collect them."

Miyako was stunned. "...Why?"

"Because they won't have enough time to dry properly, and it's easier to duplicate them if I have a template to work from." He said it as if it was the obvious thing in the world.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh. So you're gonna wait outside for me to change?"

"O-of course," he said, flushing.

"Okay, just give me second." She went to the bathroom and shut the door. She then started to disrobe, folding each item of clothing and stacking them on top of the toilet seat, careful to put the Kaiser's cape at the top of the pile. Holding up her bra and panties, she debated whether or not to include them in the pile, but figured she'd probably cause the Kaiser to have an aneurysm if she did. As such, she decided to hang them on the towel rack to dry. If worse came to worse, she would just have to go commando.

Wrapping herself in the white, fluffy towel that was also hanging there, she picked up her clothes and opened the door as little as she could in order to fit the stack of them through it. She closed it abruptly and removed the towel, walking over to the shower and turning on the faucet.

What she really felt like was a nice hot bath, but the Kaiser didn't have one in. The shower would have to do.

At least it was nice to be warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) This is actually canon. Miyako spends a lot of her post-02 drama CD track talking about different kinds of tea. It's very cute.


	11. Chapter 11

At some point during the afternoon, it had occurred to the Kaiser that he was losing his footing. Perhaps it had been when Miyako had started to speak to him like he was somebody worth talking to. Or perhaps it had been around the time that she'd stood up after dunking her head under the water, long hair plastered along her back and her shirt clinging wetly to her body. Whichever it was, he could at least admit that he was enjoying her company far more than he should've been.

The days he had waited for her to recover from her illness had been restless, not providing the satisfaction he was used to receiving from the Digital World. At the time, he had blamed it on boredom, and yet...

Everything became vibrant when he saw her again. The thought of not being near her - not kissing her or taunting her or seeing her smile - made him feel a sense of deep, irrational foreboding. And as much as this frustrated him, he had no idea what to do about it. Truth be told, he didn't want it to stop.

That was perhaps the most disconcerting thing of all.

How long would it be before she realized that she actually did have something she could use against him?

He knew that he couldn't trust this sudden civility of hers, because all she cared about was the safety of her little pet. He also knew that she would take any opportunity at all to stop seeing him.

His stomach twisted painfully at the thought, and it stubbornly refused to _un_ twist.

Gathering the items of clothing he had just created, he walked back to his bedroom, knocking on the door. Nobody answered, which meant that Miyako was probably still in the shower. He opened the door carefully and, seeing that the room itself was indeed empty, walked in, placing the clothing on the bed. However, just as he turned to leave, the bathroom door opened, revealing Miyako - hair dripping and skin damp - clad in nothing but a towel.

Her mouth fell slack when she caught sight of him in turn, and it took him a moment to realize that his own mouth was hanging open as well. His brain was telling him just how inappropriate it was to keep staring at her, but he just couldn't tear his eyes away. Not from the smooth, rounded flesh where the very top of her breasts were exposed, and certainly not from the little droplets of water that slid slow and tantalizing over every other part of her skin.

"Um..." she said, her eyes very wide.

It was as if a switch suddenly went on in his brain. "I..." It was difficult to speak because his mouth had gone dry. "I was just bringing you the clothes." But, even having said that, he still couldn't bring himself to look away.

Miyako was _naked_ underneath that towe _l,_ he realized, and his face heated. But the embarrassment was easily overpowered by whatever it was that compelled him to continue staring at her.

She blinked hard, her face flushing. Then, before he had the chance to say anything more, she retreated back into the bathroom and shut the door.

With the sound of the door closing, the Kaiser let out a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding. He left his bedroom but didn't walk far, leaning heavily against the cool dark stone of the corridor wall. This was ridiculous, he thought, as he felt his heart pulsing in his ears. Was this what is was to like somebody? Surely not. He couldn't even believe that he was giving Miyako's foolish musings a second thought.

He thought then of the archives he'd watched during her absence - of the way she had laughed and smiled so easily with the other Chosen Children - and a new emotion rose to the surface.

Jealousy, however, was an emotion he was intimately familiar with.

_"I...guess I just think you'd be really clingy and jealous. You're not exactly good boyfriend material."_

His hands clenched into fists, and he let out a heavy breath. How could he allow mere words to affect him so much? He was above it; he was beyond it. He was...he was...

He was starting to go beyond the point of caring. If that's what she thought, then so be it. In spite of everything, he still had an advantage, and she would soon be reminded of it. Perhaps it _was_ obvious, even to a mere insect, that he had some kind of attachment to her, whether he "liked" her or not. And Miyako was, if nothing else, smarter than the average insect.

His hands relaxed, fists unfurling, and he allowed his head to lull back against the wall.

He wanted to see Miyako-san every day, but he still wanted very much to win the game.

He was confident that the latter desire would be fulfilled within a relatively short period of time. It was the former that required some real planning. With that acknowledged, a smirk began to creep across his face; it seemed as if his recently-captured Agumon might be useful in a way he hadn't originally considered.

* * *

He knocked on the door of his bedroom tentatively, and waited to hear if there was any affirmation from Miyako that it was alright for him to enter. Thankfully, it only took her a few seconds to say, "You can come in now."

Opening the door slowly, he found that she was fully clothed, and refused to believe that the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was disappointment. He bowed slightly and said, "I'm sorry about earlier."

She bit her lip, then replied, "It's okay. I know that you didn't do it on purpose." Her cheeks flushed red and she crossed her arms. "I mean, you shouldn't have stared. But...I guess it must be weird to see a girl like that for the first time."

He wasn't quite sure why he said what he did next, but it came before he could really consider whether it was appropriate or not. "It's true that it was the first time I've seen something like that, but that wasn't the reason why I couldn't look away." It was too late to backtrack, so he continued. "You..." He swallowed, but soon felt a calm determination overtaking him, burying any embarrassment he might have felt. "You're beautiful."

She stared at him for a moment, apparently dumbstruck, then let out a harsh, forced laugh. "For you to say something like that, I really must be the first." She let out another laugh, this one even more strained. "I guess I should get going now. So...goodbye?"

He walked closer to her, and she backed away until her knees knocked against the side of his bed. She looked down at them sharply, then back at him, swallowing visibly. "W-what?"

It was annoying, seeing the abrupt shift in her attitude between now and earlier that afternoon. But it just made him all the more sure of what he was about to do. "You're beautiful," he said again. He remembered the admiring glances that she sometimes threw the other girl - the one named Yagami Hikari - and the annoyance grew. "In fact, you're the prettiest girl I've ever met."

She swallowed again. "That's flattering and all, but I seriously doubt you've met that many girls."

His eyes narrowed behind his dark glasses. "Don't patronize me." He leaned in even closer. "I know when a girl is pretty or not, Miyako-san."

"O...kay. Thank you for the compliment. Can I, uh..." she licked her lips. "Can I go now?"

He didn't respond immediately; her discomfort was oddly compelling. And yet, it was also infuriating. What was she afraid of, exactly? Why couldn't she just take a compliment in the spirit with which it was given? His mouth twitched downwards. He once again recalled those lingering looks that Miyako gave the Yagami girl, and decided to say, "You're prettier than Yagami, you know."

"...Huh?"

"Yagami Hikari: you're prettier than she is."

He probably shouldn't have been surprised by the way her face twisted in anger, but he was. "I'm _not_."

"You are."

"I _said_ that I'm not."

"And what you _said_ is wrong."

She glared at him. "Believe it or not, insulting somebody's friends is _not_ a good way of giving them a compliment."

"I never insulted her. Does it really make you that uncomfortable, being told that you're better than those insects?" He leaned in closer still, feeling a thrill shiver up his spine. "And, if I recall, you even admitted that she wasn't your friend. What was it you said again? 'If it wasn't for this place, I doubt that she would want to spend time with me.'"

"I..." Her hands had curled into fists. "Maybe she doesn't see me as a friend, but that doesn't change the fact that she's pretty, and kind, and..and wonderful. So don't you dare talk about her that way!"

Softly, dangerously, he said, "Have you forgotten who you're talking to?"

She didn't reply.

"I can and will talk about that _insect_ \- and all of your other pathetic 'friends' - in any way that I wish."

She sighed, and the anger seemed to drain out of her body. "...I guess I should thank you."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"I...actually had forgotten." She smiled weakly. "For a little while...I'd forgotten what type of person you are." Bowing her head forward in what appeared to be supplication, she said, "I'm sorry for speaking out of turn. Can I please go home now?"

Finally, he took several steps back, and couldn't quite bring himself to feel triumphant. She _was_ prettier than Yagami, and it was disgraceful that she couldn't seem to admit it. _Is this your_ _ **friendship**_ _?_ He wanted to ask. _Allowing yourself to be belittled by the opinions of your inferiors? So much so that you can't even recognize the fact that they_ _ **are**_ _your inferiors?_

But he didn't press the subject further, since it was obvious that Miyako wasn't willing to hear reason just yet. In the meantime... "I want to show you something before you leave, so come with me."

She followed without any further protest.

* * *

Well, this was it. Miyako had officially gone too far, and all because the Kaiser had given her a compliment.

Cntext was everything, it turned out. Months before, she would've gone weak at the knees if Ichijouji Ken had said she was the prettiest girl he'd ever met. But she hadn't known who he really was back then. The Kaiser was handsome - easily the most handsome boy that _she'd_ ever met - but it didn't make his behavior any less unsettling. Shojo manga didn't really capture just how creepy boys could be, even when they were cute.

Then again, she thought back to a few minutes prior, when she'd retreated into the bathroom after her embarrassing little run-in with the Kaiser. She thought of the way her heart had been beating, of how difficult it had been to get herself to move away from her position slumped against the door, of how her hands had been shaking when she'd finally managed to start getting dressed.

None of that had been from fear.

She didn't have time to contemplate that matter much longer, because the Kaiser said, "We're here. You can stop walking now."

She blinked blearily as she came out of her thoughts; she had been so absorbed that she hadn't even noticed where he was taking her. They were in a cellblock - but it was different from the one where she had once been kept. There was only one cell, and it was far larger than any of the ones she'd seen so far. It took her a moment or two to notice the cell's occupant, because he was so much smaller than the cell itself. It was just lucky, she guessed, that his orange coloring made him stand out against the otherwise grey-black background.

"You recognize it, yes?"

"Taichi-sempai's Agumon..." she breathed.

"Correct," he said.

"This..." she felt the rage from earlier coming back with a vengeance, but managed to keep all but the barest quiver from entering her tone. "This is why you were so happy the other day, isn't it?" Her fingers twitched involuntary. "Are you going to make me watch as you kill him, or something?"

"You have my intentions quite mistaken, Miyako-san." He walked closer to the bars of the cell, gesturing to Agumon's arm. A band of black was visible there, and Miyako realized with horror that it was an Evil Ring. "Why _would_ I waste such a valuable slave?"

Unsure of how else to respond, she found herself laughing in disbelief. "So you're gonna make the others fight him, aren't you? And you wanted to show me so you could, what? Rub in how utterly powerless I am?" This time, she would not allow herself to cry.

"You're mistaken again, I'm afraid." His voice lacked the smug quality it often acquired when he knew he had the upper hand.

"So what is it, then? Did you just wanna make me feel like a useless piece of crap for the sheer fun of it?"

There was a long, pregnant pause, and then, "I want to make a deal."

Miyako stared at his back. "...A deal."

"Yes," he said. "You've already noticed that I'm...more attached to you than I probably should be. I've decided that there's no point denying it anymore."

She couldn't think of anything to say to that.

"As such, simply having one advantage is not enough to guarantee your further cooperation."

"So..."

"So I'm offering you a deal. If you agree to continue meeting with me, I won't carry out my plans to have your allies fight against the Agumon."

"You _do_ like me, then."

"Maybe. All I for sure know is that I want to keep seeing you."

She felt vaguely nauseas. "This is the worst confession _ever_."

"Is that so."

"Yeah, it is." Her fingers twitched again. "And by 'cooperation', you mean...?"

"Meeting me when I ask you to. Perhaps also keeping the excuses to a minimum."

"So you're basically asking me to date you?"

"No, but you can think of it that way if you want to."

Not for the first time, she found that she hated being right. "You do realize that I'm never going to speak to you again once all of this is over, right?"

Another pause. "You want to go home, don't you? I'll lead you back to the main control room."

She looked at Agumon for a while, feeling a crushing, inescapable sense of helplessness. She then thought of how much pain it would cause both him and the others if they ended up fighting. It was true that she wasn't brave like Daisuke was, but she wasn't the kind of person who would allow her loved ones to suffer just so that she could be spared the humiliation of being at the mercy of their enemy.

At length, she finally said, "When would you like to see me tomorrow?"


	12. Chapter 12

Over the next week, Miyako met with the Kaiser five times. Most of the not-dates were fairly uneventful; a kiss here, an awkward conversation there. All the while, Miyako did her best to keep her tongue in check, and tried very hard not to think too much.

That was until Saturday rolled around. Miyako had been sure that her tests were over for at least a month, but it turned out she'd been mistaken. When she leaned over to one of her classmates, asking in hushed tones exactly _when_ this test had been announced, he had calmly replied that it had been the previous week. To make matters worse, it was a calculus test. Math was hardly one of Miyako's worst subjects, but she _did_ need to study for it if she wanted to achieve a decent grade. So when the test was passed out, Miyako found herself staring down at the problems before her with mute incomprehension.

She'd obviously been spacing out far more than she'd realized.

Her obvious failure haunted her all the way through school, and continued to hang over her head as she made her way back home. She hated feeling this useless, but she knew that she couldn't do anything about it. It was stupid to dwell on something that she couldn't change, she knew, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.

At least she had gotten her panic attacks back under control.

The Kaiser's base was becoming more and more familiar to her now, though she knew he was keeping her from some strategically important positions - an easy task, given the sheer size of the thing. He had started to trust her enough to find him if he wasn't waiting in the control room, and she walked mechanically to the observation deck when she perceived his immediate absence upon her arrival. As expected he was there, arms clasped behind his back and a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Hello," he said, without turning to look at her.

"Hi," she replied. "Um...what are you looking at?" There were black panels covering the giant window, so there wasn't really anything _to_ look at.

"I'm just thinking."

Walking up to stand beside him, she pressed, "About what?"

He remained silent for several seconds, as if deciding whether or not to answer, then said, "Your allies found another Digimental today."

Miyako already knew about the secondary Digimentals that were starting to pop up. Daisuke had, after all, regaled her with the heroic tale of his using the Digimental of Friendship on Veemon in order to defeat a massive Deltamon with a new kind of Evil Spiral. It wasn't surprising that another one had shown up, as well.

Her bad mood caused her to say, rather spitefully: "Let me guess - they kicked your ass."

He smirked. "Hardly, Miyako-san. All they managed to do was free a single Gorillamon."

"That's it?" asked Miyako, the disappointment doing nothing to improve her spirits.

"What can I say? Your friends are incompetent."

She glared. "So why are you thinking about the Digimental if it obviously didn't make a difference?"

His smirk widened. "Because I'm fairly sure that it's yours."

"Oh," she said, blinking. Then, when this statement sunk in fully, the niggling feeling of utter uselessness became far more acute. " _Oh_ ," she repeated, a lump forming in her throat.

"I must admit that I'm disappointed; I would've liked to have seen your digimon's alternate armor form." More softly: "Would you like me to show you where it is?"

"Why bother?" she snapped, then shook her head to calm herself down. "I mean, it's not like I'll ever get to use it."

His mouth evened out, his expression becoming unreadable behind his glasses. "It's still yours, though."

She puffed a breath between her lips, wondering if this had some kind of ulterior motive. It was kind of silly, she guessed, to leave a Digimental just lying around. And there was always the hope that one day the Kaiser would be defeated and she'd get Hawkmon back, so she'd finally be able to see his new armor form. With this in mind, she said, "Alright. I'd like you to show me."

He nodded, then turned to her and leaned in for a kiss. But she turned her head to the side at the last second, however, so that his lips merely brushed against her cheek. "I'm not really in the mood for that today," she said. And it was only a half-lie. Truthfully, she was more afraid that she was _too much_ in the mood for it, because she knew it was a good way to take her mind off of other things.

His mouth twisted downwards, but he said, "Follow me," and lead her to the docking bay.

* * *

They arrived at a clearing next to a small lake, and disembarked from the Airdramon. The Kaiser was surveying the area with visible smugness, apparently recalling whatever is was that had transpired earlier that afternoon. When he was done with this, he led her wordlessly to a small impression in the clearing where, indeed, a Digimental lay waiting. Feeling a little silly, she crouched down and gripped its smooth surface with both hands; it lifted easily, and a beam of light burst forth from the hole left in its absence. The Digimental was gone a second later, and she opened up her D-terminal to see that it had been stored next to the Digimental of Love.

Standing up, she looked to the Kaiser. "I guess that's it."

He smiled crookedly. "From what I heard, it's supposed to be the Digimental of _Purity_." He said it with an almost mocking air.

"And this is hilarious for some reason," she mock-agreed, tucking the D-terminal away.

He quirked an eyebrow. "So you consider yourself _pure_ , then."

She rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter what I 'consider myself'. But I wouldn't say that I'm a corrupt person, whatever that's supposed to mean."

He climbed onto the digimon's back, holding out a hand to help her up. This was becoming something of a routine, much to Miyako's chagrin. Still, she took the preferred hand.

The rest of the return journey passed with a few inconsequential remarks, and soon they were back in the observation deck. Then, before she knew what was happening, the Kaiser kissed her quickly on the lips.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?" she asked dubiously, a sense of foreboding settling heavily in her abdomen.

He grinned at her. "With the information I collected today, I should be able to track down any other Digimentals before those insects can use them against me."

It took a moment for the full impact of his words to sink in, and then: "Oh _god."_

He cocked his head to the side. "Why _are_ you so upset? I didn't force you to do anything you didn't want to do."

Her voice caught in her throat, her stomach twisting in knots, before she finally managed to say, "You're _disgusting_."

"Why? Because I'm no longer allowing you to play the victim?" He patted her head condescendingly, "Perhaps you should try to be less of an idiot."

Her nostrils flared, rage coursing through her body like a fever. "It's impossible, right?"

"What is?"

"Me being less of an idiot. You don't think it's possible."

He smirked nastily. "No, I don't."

"Right. Of course." She whirled around. "In that case -" She _tried_ to keep herself from shouting. She really, truly did, but her vocal chords just wouldn't seem to listen. "- I'LL JUST GO JUMP OFF A BRIDGE!" And with that, she began to stomp away.

Before she could get very far, however, she felt him grab a hold of her wrist. Livid, she jerked herself out of his grasp, only to have him grab her even harder.

"Let go!" she yelled, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

He didn't. "Don't you _dare_ joke about something like that," he growled.

"Or what?" she sneered.

"If you stop being childish, I'm sure you can think of something yourself."

She yanked her arm again, and this time he didn't try to reclaim his hold. Trembling with rage, she began to walk away, only to whirl back around and shout, "Because constantly manipulating and insulting somebody is SO MATURE, right? Congratulations, Ichijouji-kun -" She took a deep breath. "- YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE!"

Finally, she stomped off, and the Kaiser didn't move to stop her.

* * *

He stood there for several long minutes, paralyzed by anger. When he finally began to move, his mouth was set in a hard line. He walked stiffly to the control room, finding it empty, and checked the log that recorded the information of computers recently accessed from the console. He wasn't surprised to find that Miyako's computer was logged under a time just five minutes prior, and, without really thinking about it, he raised his Digivice to the screen.

A flash of light, and he was standing in Miyako's bedroom, his ears being greeted by the familiar sound of sobbing.

She was laying face-down on her bed, head buried in her pillow. The sight was sobering, but not so much that the tension in his chest dissipated.

"Miyako-san," he said, and she shifted her head to at him. Her eyes were red.

"I knew I should have unplugged the computer," she murmured, sniffing. "I'll scream if you come any closer."

He kept his distance. "That won't be necessary."

"Just...go away."

"Are you sure you want me to leave with things as they are now?" he asked, carefully schooling the tone of his voice.

Again she looked at him. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a simple question."

There was another sniff, and she pushed herself upright, slinging her legs over the side of the bed. She rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. "I'm sorry for yelling," she said, tiredly. "I've had a really bad day, and you just made it worse."

Hesitantly, he took a step forward. "What happened?"

"Aside from you manipulating me, you mean?"

"That's something that you brought upon yourself," he said.

She put her head in her hands. "Does it even matter what happened?"

A few more steps. "It matters to _you_."

Massaging her temples, she said, "It's stupid, and I already know what you're going to say, and...I really can't handle you being any more judgmental right now."

He had reached her bed now, and he sat down beside her. "I won't say anything if you don't want me to."

"It's a little too late for that. And anyway, I still know you're gonna be thinking it."

For some reason, he wanted to put his hand on her shoulder; he resisted the impulse. "That's not fair," he said.

She swallowed. "You have no right to accuse me of being unfair - not when it comes to this." She bit her lip, then continued, "Maybe if you weren't _constantly_ informing me that that's exactly what you think. Usually..." A sigh. "Usually I can deal with it. I can make myself believe that your opinion means nothing to me and that it doesn't matter what you think. But...on days like this..." A few more tears rolled down her face, and she quickly wiped them away. "You're so smart, Ichijouji-kun. I _know_ that you're more intelligent than I will ever be - and that doesn't even bother me. But knowing that you don't even think I'm a _little_ bit smart as well...having you always remind me of that...and knowing that you - the smartest, most talented person I've ever met - don't think that I'll ever be able to improve..." She looked at him, a sad smile on her lips. "It's hard enough to make myself believe that I'm going to do something meaningful with my life _without_ you always reminding me that I'm a moron."

A lump had formed in his throat, choking down the retort that had started to form in his brain before Miyako had even finished talking. _It's not my fault that you're too fragile to handle the truth._ It was quickly replaced with: _I_ _ **am**_ _more intelligent than you can ever be, so the logical thing to do is to exploit my superiority to the fullest. If you keep me close to you, you won't have to worry about your life lacking meaning._

Luckily, this too remained unsaid.

"I'm not asking you to change your opinion of me - I'm not even asking you to lie about what you really think. But could you just - I dunno - not be so honest all the time? Can you sometimes just _think_ it and not _say_ it, so that you're not shoving it right in my face?"

Finally, he managed to say, "...What about being the 'Great Miyako-sama'?"

She let out a short, sardonic laugh. "I like it when I become the Great Miyako-sama, but she's been around a lot less since I've become more aware of the world around me." She shrugged. "Growing up sucks, I guess." Then, much more softly: "And...I can understand why you did what you did today, because you have an agenda and you _are_ going to use me if you can - but I don't understand why you felt the need to gloat about it. I guess I deserve it, for being so stupid, but..." She looked at him earnestly. "Do you really enjoy making me feel like crap _that much_?"

The lump became even more acute, because he couldn't think of anything to say in response. He had wanted to see her angry, he supposed; he wanted to see the way her eyes lit up and her body trembled. But he certainly hadn't expected her to react this strongly.

It felt silly to apologize, but he found himself saying, "I'm sorry."

A sigh. "For manipulating me, or for gloating about it?"

This time he didn't answer, but his silence seemed to be confirmation enough.

"Right," she said, breathing deeply. "I'm asking you nicely, now: please leave. I just...really need to be alone for a while."

He pushed himself to his feet and, after a moment's hesitation, made his way back to the computer.

* * *

It was about two hours later that her cellphone informed her of a text message, and Miyako flipped it open half-heartedly.

_I have a friend of mine over from America, and we're going out tonight. Wanna come?_

_Mimi_

A thrill of excitement shot up from her spine, and she found that her mood was instantly improved. Smiling, she typed:

_Count me in._

_Miyako_


	13. Chapter 13

Mimi had emailed her with further details: they were going out clubbing, and Miyako was to dress "appropriately". She didn't exactly have the kinds of clothes that Mimi was probably hoping for, so she settled for a knee-length skirt and a tank top.

As they had arranged, Mimi picked Miyako up in front of her apartment building, pulling up in a shiny, expensive-looking car. A blond boy was sitting in the front seat next to her - Miyako couldn't help but notice that he was exceedingly cute - and Mimi soon introduced him as "Michael", elaborating, "He's one of the Chosen Children from America."

"Hi," Miyako said as he turned in his seat to face her. He really was very cute. "Nice to meet you."

"Hello," he said in thickly-accented Japanese. "It is nice to meet you too." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry that my Japanese is not very good."

She smiled wide. "Better than my English."

Once they began to drive, Mimi began to chatter. "I really missed seeing you today in the Digital World - it's such a horrible thing that's happened to Hawkmon. Why, if the same thing happened to Palmon, I think I wouldn't be able to get out of bed."

Miyako felt her cheeks flush. She admired Mimi a great deal, and it lifted her spirits to know that the older girl even noticed that she wasn't there. "Yeah, it's really sucked. What exactly happened today, anyway?"

Both Mimi and Michael launched into the story about how a Digitamamon - apparently the same one that Mimi had met the first time she'd been in the Digital World - had turned out to be one of the Kaiser's slaves, and how they'd had to retreat when the Perfect-level Digimon had proven too strong to free from the Evil Spiral. Miyako felt fresh guilt twist at her insides when she thought of how she'd fallen for the Kaiser's trick earlier that day, ensuring that similar events would happen again in the future. It was only amplified by the fact that she couldn't bring herself to say anything about it.

By the time the story was finished, they had already reached the club and gotten out of the car.

Miyako looked apprehensively at the bright electric sign that flashed garishly in the growing dark. "I've never been to a club before," she said, following the other two the entrance.

Mimi smiled. "Then you're in for a treat! This place has really good music and lots of cute guys." She leaned in and whispered, "Michael's cute, right? I'm sure he'll want to dance with you."

Miyako blinked. Surely Mimi wasn't trying to set the two of them up, or something? She looked at the blond young man and blushed when he smiled back at her, her stomach doing anxious little flip-flops.

Honestly, Mimi was cuter. But she guessed that she wouldn't mind dancing with him.

Entering the club, Miyako's senses were suddenly assaulted by blaring music and colorful, flashing lights. She'd always fantasized about going out to clubs, dressed like a celebrity and surrounded by gorgeous men and women - but she couldn't help but feel apprehensive now that the reality was, almost literally, slapping her in the face.

As if sensing this, Mimi put a hand on her shoulder and said, "It's a bit much at first, but - trust me - it'll be really fun." She winked. "I've sent Michael on a little errand that will definitely help."

"Thanks, Mimi-neechan."

Michael returned a few minutes later holding two glasses, and handing one to each of them. Curiously, Miyako took a sip, and blinked at the way the sweet beverage warmed her throat as it went down. "Is this alcohol?" she asked, taking another experimental sip. She'd hid sips of sake and beer before, but nothing like this.

Mimi grinned, swallowing some of her own. "You bet. Michael's old enough to get it for us."

After yet another sip, this one much larger, Miyako said, "This is probably really expensive. I may not be able to pay you back for a while."

Mimi hit her playfully on the shoulder. "Don't be silly! This is all on me."

Her cheeks flushed again, and she was pretty sure that the alcohol had nothing to do with it. "You're so awesome, Mimi-neechan, but I don't want to exploit your kindness like that."

Leaning in closer, Mimi kissed her squarely on the cheek. "I'm not giving you a choice, okay?" She hooked her arm around Miyako's. "Now, down that drink so we can go out there and dance."

Before she could even think of doing as the Mimi had said, Miyako found herself flinging her arms around the older girl. Some of the drink spilled out of the glass in the process, but Miyako really couldn't bring herself to care all that much. "Thank you so much," she said, squeezing the other girl even tighter. Mimi was so soft and smelled so good. "You have no idea what this means to me."

Mimi pulled back, her smile even larger. "I just want you to have a good time tonight, Miyako-chan. You promise me you'll do that?"

Miyako smiled right back and nodded, then downed the rest of her drink.

* * *

After several more drinks and a lot of dancing, Miyako could scarcely remember why she'd been so upset in the first place. Her head was spinning, and a part of her brain noted, with some awe, that she was probably drunk. Mimi seemed to have come to this conclusion as well, when, around 10 o'clock, she took Miyako by the arm and said, "I think it may be time for us to get you home, ne? It's a good thing that tomorrow's a Sunday, because I have a feeling that you're going to get a hangover.

Miyako giggled and allowed her friend to lead her out of the club, noting that Michael was trailing behind them. And, before she even realized it, she was standing in her bedroom. Her mother had said something, and Miyako had said something back, but she couldn't exactly remember what.

What she did remember, however, was watching the way couples on the dance floor had moved together - the way their bodies had brushed against one another. She remembered a brief fantasy she'd entertained, of a certain somebody dancing with _her_ like that, of him trapping her against a wall and kissing her until she couldn't feel anything but his lips and tongue.

She bit her lip and picked up a cellphone, dialing Mantarou's landline.

 _"Hello?"_ said a female voice from the other end.

"Shizuna-san?" replied Miyako, hopefully.

_"Is that Miyako-chan I hear? How is everything?"_

"Remember when you said I could call you if I needed someone to talk to?"

_"Yes, of course."_

"Well, I really need some advice."

A chuckle. _"That's what I'm here for."_

Normally, she would have hesitated. But the alcohol made her bold enough to say, "Have you ever really wanted someone - you know, in _that_ way - but not actually liked them? Or...is wanting someone the same as liking them? And what am I supposed to do to _stop_ wanting them?"

 _"Actually,"_ she said, tone becoming more serious, _"I've_ _been in that exact situation before. And no,_ _liking someone and wanting someone are two completely different things."_

Miyako wasn't sure if that was comforting or not.

_"It's a good thing Tarou-kun isn't here, because he'd kill me if he heard me saying this. But...I found that the best way to get over it was to just, well...go through with it."_

"But I don't wanna give up my virginity to someone who I don't even _like_."

_"I know how you feel. I really do - but honestly? Virginity is completely overrated. Even if you do like the first guy you sleep with, chances are that it's not going to work out in the end. And it's difficult to move on from somebody you_ _**don't** _ _like when you can't stop thinking about them. Obviously it's up to you, but I think it's best to just get it over with. I've never met a girl whose first time was anything romantic, no matter who the guy was."_

In her drunken state, Miyako thought that Shizuna's words made an awful lot of sense. She was tired of having wet dreams and even wetter daydreams; she was tired of the Kaiser having the ability to affect her composure that much. She was tired of feeling guilty for not being repulsed by him when she clearly should have been.

"Thanks, Shizuna-san. That helped."

_"I'm glad. But...please remember that you're who you are, and that what worked for me may not work for you. Don't do anything rash, okay?"_

"I won't," she lied. And then, hanging up the receiver, she took out her D-terminal.

**Can I come over, Ichijouji-kun?**

**\- Miyako**

* * *

A small voice - a very, very small voice - was protesting in the far-flung recesses of her mind. But everything else was telling her that, right now, she wanted him.

"You've never asked to come here before," he said. "Is there something you want from me?"

She licked her lips. "Can I sleep here for a few hours? Just until you decide to go to bed?"

His forehead creased. "I suppose."

"Well..." she began, walking closer. "I bet you don't want me wandering around all by myself. Are you going to escort me?" It took a great deal of effort to formulate coherent sentences.

"You...want me to?" he asked, sounding mildly disbelieving.

"Maybe." She smiled. "You'll just insist on it anyway."

There was a pause, and his head turned slightly to the screen. She looked at it too, but wasn't nearly sober enough to understand what she was seeing.

What a weird-looking digimon.

"Whoops," she said. "If I interrupted something, I guess I can go home..."

That gained her his instant attention. "It was nothing that can't wait for another time." His fingers twitched oddly, as if he wanted to move his arm, but he didn't. "Come with me."

He began to walk, but he didn't get far before she said, "Wait."

He stopped. "What is it?"

Jogging to meet him, she took hold of his hand, and felt triumphant when his mouth fell open in shock.

"Let's go," she said, smiling even wider.

He nodded dumbly, and she watched with satisfaction as his adam's apple bobbed. They then began to walk together, the Kaiser's gait far stiffer than the brisk, confident stride Miyako was used to.

She wondered, then, if she made him uncomfortable _._ Her smile finally became a grin as she imagined ways to make even more off-balance.

His hand twitched against hers. "Are you planning something?"

She giggled. "Nothing in particular."

He took a deep breath. "I don't believe you."

She squeezed his hand. "Geez, you're so suspicious. Why can't I just want to sleep here every now and then? My family's loud."

"You're acting strangely," he said.

"Am I?" As they had continued to walk, she had drifted closer to his side. "Well...I did have an interesting night."

"Is that so."

"Yeah. I went to a club with Mimi-neechan."

He didn't say anything for a moment, and then, "The one with the pink hair?"

"That's her."

She was now so used to looking at him with his glasses on that she had become something of an expert on his "shrouded" expressions. And this one told her that he had just heard something that he didn't like.

Nonchalantly, she said, "You would've absolutely hated it; there was really loud music and a ton of people."

"...I wouldn't expect you to like something like that in the first place."

She shrugged. "But I did like it. A lot."

They finally arrived at his bedroom door, and he abruptly let go of her hand. "Well then," he said, and then bowed his head slightly. "Sleep well. I'll wake you in an hour or two. "

Before he had the chance to walk away, however, Miyako grabbed a hold of his wrist. "Don't go yet," she said. "Come in with me for a second."

"Why?" He sounded even more suspicious than he had before.

"You'll see." She opened the door and stepped into the room, and, after a moment of hesitation, he followed her. Walking up to the bed, she beckoned him to come with a crook of her finger. Then, when he was standing in front of her, she reached up to take off his glasses, folding them and putting them on the nightstand, and did the same with her own. "Kiss me," she said.

He didn't move for a long beat - he just stood there, staring at her, a light blush tinting his cheeks. But he eventually pulled her into a kiss, gentle as usual, and Miyako moaned more loudly than she needed to. She reached forward to cup his face between her hands and deepened the kiss, changing it to something far more heated. After a while she pulled back and looked him in the eyes.

"Miyako-san," he began, breathing very hard. He looked an awful lot like he had in the dream, and it made the heat building inside of her even more intense.

She smirked. "You look flustered, Ichijouji-kun. I wonder why that is?" Before he had a chance to respond, she sat down on the bed and shuffled to the far side of it, patting the space next to her in invitation. "I'm not gonna bite." Her smirk grew wider. "Not unless you want me to, anyway."

He swallowed visibly, but sat down. "What are you doing?" he asked, very softly.

She used the tips of her fingers to tap his shoulder. "You're a genius - I'm sure you can figure it out." She tapped him again. "So, are you gonna lie down, or am I gonna have to persuade you some more?"

He swallowed again, but soon did as she asked, his face flushing fully. Smiling triumphantly, she leaned over him and gave him a slow, sensuous kiss, using her free hand to map out his chest with her fingers. Breaking away, she leaned in very close so that her chest was pressed against his, her mouth by his ear. "Do you even have any idea how sexy you are?" she asked, fingers now sliding into his hair. "You have this _smile_ , Ichijouji-kun - like you know exactly what to do, and that anybody who gets in your way is going to regret it." She kissed his cheek. "I know you do it to scare us, but it sometimes makes me wanna just -" she nibbled on his earlobe. He gasped in response.

Why was her imagination so accurate? It wasn't fair.

"M-Miyako-san," he said, and his eyes screwed tightly shut.

She giggled. "You're sexy like this, too." Her fingers trailed down to his cheek, and she ran them in little circles over the flushed skin. She sighed and shifted against him, drinking in the helpless moan she got in response. "I just wanna eat you up, Ichijouji-kun."

She pulled back slightly, finding that his eyes had opened again. His gaze was unfocused and hungry, his pupils blown wide. He blinked once, then reached up with his own hands, pulling her down for a kiss.

She shifted her hips once more, and felt him gasp into her mouth.

Suddenly, she wanted to say it, just like she had in the dream. Pulling back again, she said, "It looks like Ichijouji-kun really _is_ a boy."

The reaction she got was not the one she expected: the Kaiser pushed her off, and she flopped gracelessly onto her back. He then rolled over onto his side.

"What's the big idea?" she said indignantly, trying to regain her composure.

There was a long pause, and then he said, "Do you think I'll give your digimon back?"

Miyako groaned in frustration, her head lulling on one of the pillows. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He was breathing so hard that it was audible. "Do you think that I'll give your digimon back if you do this with me?"

"Hah?" She snorted. "You already made it clear that you wouldn't. As always, the Digimon Kaiser completely underestimates my intelligence."

"Then why?" he demanded.

She sighed. "Since when have you cared about my reasons for anything?"

"I _don't_ care. I just never imagined you'd do this kind of thing so frivolously with a person you claim to despise." The bitterness in his voice was so potent she could almost taste it. "Earlier, you made it perfectly clear that you couldn't stand to be around me."

She rolled her eyes, and, huffing, pushed herself upright. "I'm not doing this _frivolously,_ you jerk." Her fingers trailed over the shell of his ear, and he jerked his head away. She snickered, then said, "I've just never wanted anyone as much as I want you, and I _know_ that you want me too. And sure, I probably wouldn't be doing this if I was sober, but right now it seems like a really good idea."

"...You're _drunk_ ," he said, voice thick with disgust.

"Bingo." She poked him in the back, and it suddenly dawned on her that he was still wearing his cape. Weird. "But only a little bit." She giggled. "Okay, that's a lie - I'm completely hammered." She poked him again.

"Stop that, " he growled.

"Fine, fine. You're just being a party pooper tonight." A dull ache began to pound in her head, and she felt tears in her eyes. Oddly, the sadness itself seemed muted; still there, but not as acute as it should have been. "Hey, I know I'm a bad person right now. Like...you bring up Hawkmon, and I don't want to think about him, so now I kinda wanna pick up where we left off because it will distract me from how crappy it feels. But you're the reason why he's not with me in the first place, and I don't even like you." She poked him a third time. "I'm pretty sure that makes me a bad person. What do you think?"

It was his turn to sit up, but he did it in such a way that he still wasn't facing her. "I think you should leave."

"But I don't wanna leave."

She could see now that his hands were clenched into fists. "I'm going to take a shower. When I come out, you had better not be here." With that, he stood up and walked to the door that lead to his bathroom.

Before he managed to open it, however, Miyako said, "Are you gonna jerk off or something?" Idly, she began to play with her hair. "Do you want me to come in with you and help?"

Without her glasses, he was much too far away for her to see. From the tone of his voice, however, she imagined that his fists were shaking. They tended to do that when he got this angry. "If you're not gone by the time I get out, you're going to regret it."

"Okay, fine, I get it. I'll be gone by the time you're done with your stupid shower." She flopped down onto the bed.

She heard the door being slammed shut.

That was her cue to leave, but her body felt really heavy, and she just couldn't seem to summon the motivation to sit up. Unconsciously, she turned her head into the pillow.

It smelled like _him_.

She felt her eyes growing heavy.

Surely it would be fine if she stayed there for just a few more minutes.

* * *

_He hears the door opening, and he turns around, ignoring the droplets of water running down from his hair. She's standing there, biting her lip, arms crossed self-consciously over her chest._

_"I'm sorry, Ichijouji-kun."_

_He steps out of the shower, doing nothing to hide his nakedness._

_"What makes you think I'll forgive you?" he says._

_Her fingers grasp awkwardly around her elbows. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm just afraid."_

_He doesn't move. "Afraid of what?"_

_She finally looks him in the eye. "Of liking you."_

_Walking towards her, he says, "I thought I told you to leave."_

_There are tears in her eyes. "I can't, Ichijouji-kun. I..." She takes a step forward, and there are mere inches separating them now. "I think I'll die if I leave. Please don't make me."_

_He leans in close and whispers, "Tell me the truth, and maybe I'll let you stay."_

_"I..." She breathes deeply. "I love you. So much. And I need you to touch me. Please..." Brown eyes stare pleadingly into his own, the tears spilling over onto her flushed cheeks. "Please touch me, Ichijouji-kun."_

_Silently, he takes her by the hand and leads her to the shower, pulling her underneath the spray with him. The water soon soaks through her cloths, and they cling to her body like they had that day at the lake. He kisses her softly, running his hands up and down her sides, and she gasps into his mouth, arching her back. His right hand drops lower, and somehow her pants are gone, leaving nothing but the thin, sodden material of her panties. He doesn't stop kissing her as he slips his hand beneath the elastic, fingers brushing gently against hot, damp skin._

_And then wetness of an entirely different kind encircles his fingers, and this time Miyako_ _**moans** _ _._

_"Ken..." Her voice is barely above a whisper, her eyes half-lidded and liquid. "Please...I need you..."_

_He kisses her neck, sinking his fingers in deeper._

_She moans again. "Ah! Don't...don't stop!"_

_And that's when the world goes white._

* * *

The spray beat down on his body with an unrelenting ferocity, but he didn't move to adjust the faucet. He was shivering in the aftermath of his fantasy, evidence of his lost control having already been washed down the drain. He'd done this before; a necessity, perfunctory and meaningless. But never like this - never actually thinking about anything, or any _one_ , in particular. And what little relief was to be had from the exercise was easily overshadowed by a gnawing emptiness deep inside him, punctuated by the memories of the night's actual events flooding back into his brain.

It shouldn't have mattered that she hated him; it shouldn't have mattered that she saw him as nothing more than an obstacle to overcome, and occasionally as somebody who was good for nothing but scratching an itch. No, it shouldn't have mattered at all.

He remembered Mama and Papa, smiling polite, blank smiles. Pretending to be happy and praising him. But he'd known, deep down inside, that they resented the fact that he was still alive. They weren't bad people, though, so they'd kept their hatred hidden, all three of them living on with the stark comfort of an artificial routine. Mama and Papa had been unable to hide their discontent, however, and he had always seen the contempt behind their smiles. The disdain in their eyes.

It was like they'd been saying: "If you had died instead, we would still be happy."

And now he could picture Miyako standing there with them, disgust written plainly on her expressive face. He didn't even need to imagine what she'd say.

_"_ _I don't think I've ever really hated anybody before. I guess there really must be something special about you."_

He shut his eyes very tight, and forced himself to believe that the wetness on his face was caused by nothing but the shower's spray.


	14. Chapter 14

When Ken had brushed his teeth and left the bathroom, he was greeted with the sight of Miyako lying on his bed. The anger came back with a vengeance, and his hands balled into fists as he stalked towards her.

It was clear when he came closer, however, that the young woman was sleeping soundly, her chest rising and falling in shallow, even breaths. Her face was slack, mouth parted ever-so-slightly, her features smooth and unmarred by worry.

His breath caught in his throat. Why did she always look so pretty when she was sleeping?

Hands twitching, he deliberated on whether or not to wake her up. He didn't want her here - didn't want to be reminded of his humiliation - and yet...and yet...

He just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not when she looked like _that_. Snarling at his own weakness, he grabbed some clothes from his closet and went back to the bathroom to dress. He then headed for the main control room, where he pulled up the file he'd been working on before Miyako arrived; it calmed his nerves somewhat when he thought of how his ultimate weapon, once completed, would finally rid him of his insect infestation.

But the work was not quite enough to distract him from wandering thoughts of the girl sleeping on his bed - thoughts of what could have possibly motivated her behavior earlier that night. And, the more he thought about it, the more agitated he became. His could only think of one possible explanation.

He would confront her in the morning, he decided. But the thought provided him with little solace.

* * *

She awoke with a pounding headache, her mouth dry and sour-tasting.

So this was what a hangover felt like, she thought, using every ounce of her strength to push herself upright from the bed. She promised herself that she was never going to drink again.

Looking blearily around, she tried to get her bearings. It took her a few minutes to register that she was still in the Kaiser's bedroom, through the haze of her myopia. She thought back to the night before, and how she'd been so certain that she needed to leave. And yet, here she was.

With a jolt, she realized that she must have fallen asleep in the Kaiser's bed. And then, with rising panic, she realized that she had unwittingly ignored one of the Kaiser's I'm-so-pissed-that-I'm-going-to-do-something-terrible-if-you-don't-obey orders.

Crap.

Unsteadily, she got to her feet, put on her glasses, and looked at the clock on the wall. It told her that it was seven in the morning, and she frowned. She hadn't come here any later than eleven the night before, which meant that she'd slept undisturbed for a good eight hours at least. But she knew that the Kaiser would have definitely seen her the second he got out of the bathroom - and would have probably gone into an even bigger rage.

She didn't know exactly what to think of the fact that he'd allowed her to sleep soundly, but it did little to ease her worry. Still, there were more pressing matters at hand: like the fact that her mouth tasted of spoiled pickles. Making her way to the bathroom, she found that there was an unused toothbrush waiting for her, and used it gratefully. Then she became aware of an insistent discomfort in her bladder.

After that was dealt with, she had as quick of a shower as she could manage.

Walking out of the bathroom in a towel, she debated whether or not to put on the clothes she'd worn the night before, or to rifle through the Kaiser's closet to see if he had anything she could borrow. On the one hand, the clothing she'd acquired in the Digital World didn't smell like alcohol or cigarette smoke. On the other hand, she'd still _slept_ in them.

Thankfully, it appeared that she was deliberating over a moot question. She spotted a set of her clothes - clean and unworn - folded neatly on the Kaiser's desk.

She got dressed quickly, and soon heard a knock on the door. Hesitantly, she called out, "You can come in!" and braced herself for an onslaught.

Sure enough, the Kaiser entered - hair flat, dressed in grey slacks and a sweater. Miyako couldn't help but notice that he looked incredibly cute, but all that did was remind her of the previous night. Her stomach twisted.

"I trust you slept well," he said, both tone and facial expression completely unreadable.

"Y-yeah," she replied. "Thanks for the toothbrush and the clothes."

He said nothing for a moment, simply gazing at her with that same impassive look on his face. And then he said, "There's breakfast waiting in the kitchen." This time, his tone made it clear that he expected her to be there.

Miyako had no intention of doing anything to antagonize him further. "Um...okay."

Wordlessly, he turned and walked out of the room, and she figured that he wanted her to follow him. The silence that persisted as they walked together was unbearably tense.

* * *

They were sitting across from one-another at the table in the center of the kitchen. The breakfast the Kaiser had prepared was a traditional one: miso soup, steamed rice and a piece of grilled fish. Miyako was eating it quietly, occasionally glancing at him with obvious fear in her eyes. She must have realized, he thought, that he had figured her out. He'd said nothing yet because he wanted to let her stew for a while - wanted to give her an opportunity reflect on her actions.

Not having much of an appetite, he'd only prepared the soup and rice for himself, and had already finished them. Balancing his chopsticks atop his rice bowl, he leveled his gaze at her.

She seemed to notice his focused attention, because she said, "Thanks for making this, Ichijouji-kun." She looked down at the food, then back to him. "Um...about last night..."

He found himself smirking, not exactly _glad_ for being so good at predicting her reaction, but still somewhat triumphant about it. "I suppose I should congratulate you, Miyako-san. You succeeded in humiliating me." The smirk widened. "You should enjoy the vindication while it lasts."

She stared at him, apparently flabbergasted.

He raised his eyebrows. "You're not going to pretend that wasn't your intention, are you? Or are you simply regretting it?"

A breath, and then, "I _wasn't_ trying to humiliate you, Ichijouji-kun."

"You're a terrible liar," he said, smirk falling away.

"I'm not -" she put down her chopsticks. "I'm not _lying_. I was just drunk, and I wasn't thinking straight. I..." Nervously, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm really sorry."

"Are you?" he drawled, anger and embarrassment warring uncomfortably in his head. "Because I know a thing or two about humiliation, Miyako-san. When I made Motomiya bow down before me and beg for your lives, I never once felt sorry. He had insulted me, just like I insulted you yesterday, and I had every right to put him in his place." The smirk finally returned, even nastier than before. "You've revealed that you and I are not nearly as different as you'd like to believe. And maybe you are sorry, if only that you've shown just how empty your petty moralizing ultimately is. So much for being the child of Purity, hmm?"

At this Miyako frowned, her temper finally starting to get the better of her. When she spoke, her tone was saturated with sarcasm. "Oh yeah - getting you to go jerk off in the shower was part of my _masterful plan_ to make you pay for calling me stupid. It's not like I wanted you to have sex with me! Oh no, that couldn't have had _anything_ to do with it."

He stared.

After a moment, she blushed.

He swallowed.

She sighed, blush deepening, but didn't say anything more. Instead, she got to her feet and walked towards the kitchen door.

It took him a second or two to realize that she was _leaving_. And, realizing this, he got to his feet and followed her, barring the door with his body before she had even reached it herself.

His eyes narrowed. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"Home," she stated. Her blush was starting to fade. "I feel like my head is gonna explode, and I don't have the energy to deal with your neuroses right now."

" _Neuroses_?" he repeated, eyes narrowing still further.

"That's what I said. You obviously hate the fact that you're attracted to me, so you're trying to pass off what happened last night as some premeditated plot to get back at you by - apparently - giving you a boner." She crossed her arms. "It must kill you to _want_ somebody as _lowly_ as me, but hey! You do. And if it bothers you that much, you don't ever have to see me again." She glared. "You think that _you're_ humiliated? Try losing control and almost having unprotected sex with your worst enemy. Because, right now? I feel like I could curl up into a ball and die."

His stomach felt like it had plummeted to his feet, but his expression remained unchanged. "Are you going to continue to pretend that you planned to see it through, then?"

Her hands clenched into fists. "I'm not _pretending_!" she yelled. "If you hadn't stopped it, I would've gone as far as I could." When she spoke again, it was far less heatedly. "But maybe it's better if you _don't_ believe me. I'm almost curious to see how much more you can ruin my life."

He looked away, suddenly unable to meet her eye.

"So, are you gonna let me pass or not?"

He forced himself to look at her again. "Not until you kiss me."

She scoffed "Seriously? Even after your whole tirade about how I'm a manipulative bitch who's willing to use her body to get back at people?"

Mollified, he said, "That's not what I meant."

"...Yeah, whatever," she muttered, and leaned in to give him a brief kiss on the mouth.

When she retreated, however, he cupped his hands on either side of her face and pulled her back, pushing his tongue past her lips. She kissed back, a little moan emanating from the back of her throat, reminding him of the night before. He remembered the feel of her pressed against him; he remembered how wonderful her voice had sounded next to his ear - how he'd loved all the disrespectful, humiliating things she had said.

He turned them around without breaking the kiss, hands leaving her face to cage her body against his. Involuntarily, he found himself shivering, and gave into the sudden impulse to break away so that he could kiss his way down the smooth skin of her throat. She gasped, hands sliding into his hair and tugging; the sharp sting was enough to ever-so-slightly lift the haze that had fallen over him.

Stepping back, he tried very hard to get his breathing under control. "I wonder who you're thinking about right now," he said, averting his eyes from hers. "Motomiya? Takaishi?" He breathed out hard through his nose. "Hida?"

Even though she seemed to have also regained her footing, her mouth fell open at his question. "Huh?" Her mouth snapped shut, and her eyes went wide. Then, she covered her mouth with her hand, expression morphing into one of pure disgust. And when she pulled her hand away she said, "I think I'm gonna throw up."

Ken took a step backward, unsure of whether or not she was being serious. "If you really have to, please do it in the sink."

She took a very deep breath and released it slowly, then repeated the action several times. "No, I'm okay now. Just..." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Iori-kun is like a little brother, and I don't find Daisuke or Takeru-kun attractive at all. Honestly?" Her gaze met his squarely for a moment, before she blushed slightly and looked away. "I have trouble thinking about pretty much anything when we do things like this."

His blush returned as well. She could be lying, he supposed. But since she knew that she couldn't use this kind of thing as a bartering tool, it seemed unlikely that she'd force herself to do it. Unless his first assumption had been correct, of course, and she only did it in order to humiliate him. And yet, what happened the night before had been unusual. Normally, _he_ was the one initiating contact, while  _she_ was the one being caught off-guard.

With a swell of triumph, he finally accepted the possibility that she was in fact being sincere. He would have smirked, but the full implications of her...admission...left him much too flustered for the expression to materialize. With a dry mouth, he asked, "Do you really want to do... _that_ with me?"

"You mean...have sex with you?" She bit her lip, cheeks just as red as his no doubt were. "I would be lying if I said no."

"But...why?"

She chuckled awkwardly. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Her blush deepened even further. "Maybe...we should just do it and get it over with."

"But you don't even _like_ me," he said, trying to convince himself that the way his chest constricted had absolutely nothing to do with that fact.

She licked her lips, then said, "No, but why does it matter?"

He couldn't quite express how perplexed he was by this question without giving away too much, so he said, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you _insist_ that you don't like me either. It's not that big of a deal, is it? If two people find each other attractive, it's natural - even if they don't have feelings for each other." Taking a deep breath, she added: "Just for its own sake, I mean. Just because we want to."

He swallowed, finding himself temporarily bereft of words. She had a point - there was no logical reason why he was so opposed to the idea. All he knew was that a large part of him practically _rebelled_ at the thought of having casual...relations...with Miyako. That was, at the "casual" part - not the "relations" part. It was probably just some conditioned response brought on by cultural ideas about what was and wasn't appropriate. This was the Digital World, however; he hadn't come here to be _appropriate_.

"Alright," he said, ignoring the continued voice of protest coming from somewhere inside his brain. "I can see your point."

* * *

Miyako rubbed the back of her neck, if only to stop herself from smacking her forehead repeatedly. The words seemed to be coming out of her mouth without permission, and her headache was doing absolutely nothing to help her self-control. But, in spite of the shame, she was relieved to finally be getting everything off her chest. And even more relieved that the Kaiser seemed to be listening to reason for once.

She sighed. "I'm sorry if I humiliated you last night." And, surprisingly, she really was. "But that wasn't my intention at all. I was just drunk and...I was acting selfishly."

His eyes darted between her face and the wall. Then, very softly, he said, "I'm sorry as well. I shouldn't have accused you of doing it vindictively."

The tension between them seemed to have eased considerably at last. Miyako was always surprised when he apologized, especially when it was so obviously sincere. Jokingly, she said, "I'm surprised you even gave me that much credit, to be honest. I mean, you think I'm a moron when I'm sober. How could I possibly be capable of scheming when I'm _drunk_?"

This earned her the barest hint of a smile. "And, once again, you have a point."

She grinned, a small part of her in awe, and none too grateful, of how quickly the mood of their conversation had changed. "Maybe I should get hangovers more often; I'm totally on a roll today."

His smile widened into the kind that always made her heart skip a beat - the kind without a hint of irony or cruelty. "I probably didn't help the headache at all. Do you want some tea?" His eyes went to the door. "That is, if you don't still want to leave."

Miyako sensed that he wanted her to stay, and figured that it was prudent to keep his now-good-mood going for as long as possible. "Tea sounds great," she said, and walked back to the table. "But this time I'm gonna take care of the dishes, okay?"

At first he looked a little hesitant; she was probably impinging on his sense of propriety. But he said, "If you insist," and walked to the counter, turning on the kettle and retrieving a pair of teabags.

Miyako went to work clearing the breakfast dishes and taking them to the sink. Halfway through washing the first bowl, she said, "So...tomorrow night?"

"What about tomorrow night?"

Her cheeks went very warm. "Should we - you know... _do it_ tomorrow night?" The bluntness she had mustered in anger was completely lost on her now, and she was actually a little bit grateful for that.

Tangible silence, and then: "...I don't see why not."

"Okay then," she said, conviction more than a little affected. "Tomorrow night it is."

As she finished the dishes and he brought out the tea, the room lapsed into awkward silence.


	15. Chapter 15

'Tomorrow night' came with startling swiftness, and Miyako arrived in the Kaiser's base with butterflies in her stomach. She'd spent her entire time at school psyching herself up for this, and she was determined to see it through.

"Hello," said the Kaiser, a little hesitantly. He was dressed in normal clothing and his hair was in its natural state.

"Hi," she replied, walking up to him. "Let's...uh...go to the bedroom."

He nodded without saying anything.

Could this be any more awkward?

"So...how was your day?" he asked, slowing down his strides so that he fell into step beside her.

She shrugged. "Fine. Yours?" She didn't really want to know, but it seemed rude not to ask.

"It was alright enough."

"That's..." she blew out a breath between her lips. "That's good."

Finally, after what seemed like forever, they arrived at their mutual destination. The first thing Miyako did when she entered the room was take out the handful of condoms she'd brought with her and put them on his bedside table.

He stared at them for a while, cheeks flaring red.

Miyako took a breath and reached for the zip of her over-shirt, pulling it down with trembling fingers. Ken's eyes were flickering between her and the floor, and she could see that his breathing was unsteady. When she had finally removed the first layer of clothing, she said, "A-aren't you gonna get undressed as well?"

He licked his lips and nodded stiffly, reaching down to the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. He had a very attractive body - muscular without being bulky. Normally it would have made Miyako a little bit excited. But this time it was only making her even more nervous.

She was really going to do this.

She reached for the hem of her own shirt, and it took every ounce of her willpower to pull it over her head, leaving her in nothing but her bra and pants. Ken's eyes were suddenly very focused on her; she could see his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

She wasn't sure which part of her she was most embarrassed about, and settled for crossing her arms over her chest. "What?" she asked, somewhat defensively. "Having second thoughts now that you've seen me without a shirt on?"

It took him a moment to answer. "Don't be stupid," he said, but it lacked its usual sting.

She sighed. "Okay." She bit her lip, then said, "This isn't going to get any less weird if you just stand there all night. We should...uh...kiss...or something."

"Y-yeah." He walked over to the bed and sat down beside her, brushing her hair behind her bare shoulders. He then leaned in to kiss her, using his hand to stroke her face.

This was what she had needed, she decided, as she felt the heat building steadily in her belly. She wasn't quite over her embarrassment, but she could at least find the courage to undress a bit further. Breaking the kiss, she stood up and undid her pants, letting them drop to the floor.

She was in nothing but her bra and panties now, and the hesitation returned with a vengeance. She was painfully cognizant of just how exposed she was - every bump and crevice open for his inspection. He could see how her thighs touched together, and how her tummy wasn't completely flat, and the little bits of extra padding all over her body that made her cringe when she looked in the mirror. Her cheeks flared uncomfortably hot. "What about you?" she asked, fiddling awkwardly with a lock of her hair.

Ken was staring at her again.

"Ichijouji-kun..."

He pushed himself up as well, and soon his pants were also on the floor. Miyako couldn't help but notice the bulge in his underwear, and a thrill of apprehension shot up her spine. She laughed nervously. "This was so much easier when I was drunk."

He was blushing even harder now. "This was _your_ idea, Miyako-san."

She laughed again. "Yeah, I know. Just...kiss me again? It helps."

There was a long moment of hesitation before he approached her again and did as she asked. As the kiss proceeded, she felt his hand trailing up the bare skin of her back, and shivered. His then began to fumble with the clasp of her bra, and she broke the kiss in surprise.

His fingers retreated, even though he was breathing very hard, his pupils blown so wide that she could only see a narrow ring of blue in his irises.

"Is it alright?" he asked, very softly, but continued to trace his fingers over her back.

"Yeah." Her fingers itched to touch his skin as well. "I was just surprised. And...it would be easier if I turned around."

"...I see." She felt his fingers twitch in reluctance, but his arms soon fell back to his sides.

Turning so that her back was facing him, he once again reached for the clasp of her bra. This time, he undid it successfully, and Miyako's fingers trembled as she slid the straps off of her shoulders and let the garment fall to the floor. In a wave of self-consciousness, she crossed her arms over her bare chest. She had to force herself to face him once more.

He grasped one of her wrists and, very gently, guided her arm out of the way. The movement was hesitant at first, but soon became more confident, and Miyako felt her other arm fall away as well, almost as if it was acting of its own volition.

He licked his lips as he took in the sight of her naked breasts, then closed his eyes and took a very deep breath. "Maybe..." His eyes opened, half-lidded and yet oddly focused. He looked...hungry. For her. Heat whipped between her legs. "You should lie down," he said, tone soft but firm.

She had to agree, since she was certain that her legs were starting to become liquefied. She slid onto the bed, her heart beating rapidly against her ribcage. He sat down beside her and gave her a brief but thorough kiss, his fingers trailing over her collarbones and down to her right breast. When his fingertips brushed across her nipple, she let out an involuntary gasp into his mouth.

He pulled back from the kiss. "Does it feel good when I touch you there?" He repeated the action.

Miyako bit her lip and nodded hesitantly.

He did a few more times, each caress causing little shocks of sensation to go up her spine. The butterflies in her stomach were slowly going away, overcome by a growing knot of tension that wasn't at all unpleasant. Then, without warning, he grasped her entire breast in his hand, squeezing gently, and leaned forward to take one of her nipples in his mouth.

She let out an involuntary and none-too-dignified squeak, her hands sliding thoughtlessly into his hair. When he pulled away, there was an awed expression on his face. He used his free hand to grasp her other breast, kneading both of them.

"They're so soft," he breathed. Then, he took her nipple back in his mouth, making a pleased sound in the back of his throat.

She moaned this time, feeling a thumb running over the other nipple ever-so-gently. Her head was starting to spin.

When he pulled back again, there was a smirk on his lips.

Miyako tugged lightly on his hair. "And what-" at some point she'd lost her breath, and she took a moment to catch it, "- are _you_ so smug about?"

The smirk fell away, replaced by a look that could only be described as _intense_. Saying nothing, he kissed her again, this time with a ferocity that he'd never had before. When he finally broke it, his voice came out as a shaky whisper. "Show me...where to touch you."

Biting her lip, she reached tentatively for his hand, her fingers trembling. She then guided it down to where her panties were, pressing his fingers into the patch of wetness that she hadn't even realize had formed there.

The awe was back on his face. "Are you sure?" he asked, tone at once hopeful and apprehensive.

"Yeah," she said, releasing his hand in order to grasp the elastic of her underwear. "I'm sure." Had she still been in her right state of mind, she may have been disturbed by just how sure she was. But, at that moment, all she could think about was how desperately she wanted this to happen. Everything else had faded to a mere whisper in the back of her head, like the thoughts of betrayal and virginity and selfishness. She knew she should have cared, knew that she probably _would_ once all this was over with. But right then, in that moment? She didn't.

She wanted him.

* * *

He knelt in font of her and pulled aside the crotch of her panties, running his index finger over the exposed flesh. Miyako squirmed, her cheeks flushing even darker.

"You're so _wet_ , Miyako-san." He sounded as breathless as she felt.

"It's your fault," she said, then bit her bottom lip as his finger brushed over a particularly sensitive place.

"In that case, I'll take responsibility." He ran his finger over that same spot again, causing her to tense slightly and gasp. "Feels good?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," she breathed.

He shifted back up the bed. "Can you roll over onto your side?"

She did so, and she felt him press himself up against the length of her body from behind. The lump in his boxers was right up against her butt.

He slid one arm over her body to slide his fingers back beneath her panties, the other under it to grasp at the nearest available breast.

"...I'm not crushing your arm?"

"No," he replied softly, kissing the back of her head. "I'm very comfortable."

Anything else she'd been planing to say was chased out of her mind when his fingers starting moving again. Heat started to build up steadily, radiating outward from her core. She might've been embarrassed at how quickly he'd found her weak spot, but it felt too good for her to care.

"We're all alone here," he said, when she tried to muffle a moan behind her hand. "You can let out your voice as much as you want."

"It's embarrassing, though," she replied, only to gasp as he tugged gently on her nipple.

"For my sake, then." He kissed the part of her neck that was exposed through her hair. "Please, Miyako-san."

Her chest tightened, and the next time she felt compelled to moan, she didn't try to hide it. Ken gave her an answering gasp, rubbing himself up against her ass.

It took only a few more sweeps of his fingers before she was tensing in his arms, shuddering. She wouldn't have been able to control the noises coming out her this time, even if she'd wanted to.

She lay there for a few moments after it was over, her heart pounding in her ears, before she shuffled out of Ken's embrace and sat up on her knees. It was a good thing that she was still wearing her glasses, because he looked amazing: cheeks flushed and mouth slightly open, his pale skin beaded with sweat.

There was a wet patch on his boxers, but the bulge was still there. Gently, she reached out and pushed him onto his back, saying, "Looks like it's my turn to take responsibility."

His eyes fluttered open. "We can stop, if you want. I won't hold it against you."

"I don't want to stop," she said, and grabbed one of the condoms.

His adam's apple bobbed visibly. "Then...can you take off your glasses?"

Well, she was close enough that she could still make him out without them. "Okay," she said, holding out the condom for him to take. "In the meantime, you take care of this."

He swallowed visibly again, but nodded, taking the package from her.

She got up off the bed to shimmy out of her panties, which were completely soaked through, then took off her glasses and placed them next to the pile of condoms. When she got back on the bed, Ken was fully naked and...prepared.

Damn. Every part of him was cute.

"So...how are we doing this?" she asked. "Me on top? You on top?"

She was very glad that she could still make out his blush. "Whatever you like," he said, voice strained.

Miyako licked her lips. "Just like this, then." She straddled his hips, feeling the top of his length brush against her. His breath hitched, and she felt her chest tightening again. "You look so cute like this, Ichijouji-kun." She leaned forward, pressing her bare breasts against his equally bare chest, and sank herself slowly down his erection. She was expecting some kind of pain, but there was none. Instead, all she felt was surprisingly pleasant friction - a sense of fullness that she hadn't even known she'd wanted. But now that it was there, she finally understood: she'd wanted him, just like this, for a very long time. She kissed his cheek, then brushed her lips against his mouth. "I told you that I'd eat you up, didn't I?"

"Miyako-san," he gasped, and suddenly he thrust up into her, hands grasping at the flesh of her ass.

She gasped at the feel of it, moving her own hips down to meet the thrust.

Two more thrusts and he was tensing beneath her, eyelids fluttering, making the most amazing noises Miyako had ever heard.

"S-sorry," he said, breathing very hard. "I just-"

"It's totally fine." She pushed herself back so she could get a better look at his face. Some of his hair had fallen in his face, so she reached forward to brush it away. "I wanted you to."

She slid off of him and rolled onto her side, her entire body buzzing pleasantly. She felt him leave the bed, only to return a few moments later and embrace her from behind again. He'd put on a pair of pajama pants.

* * *

She lay there for what seemed like a very long time, though it couldn't have been longer than a few minutes, feeling truly relaxed for the first time in months. Ken pressed the occasional kiss to various parts of her face, his left arm slung across her stomach and his right hand playing idly with strands of her hair.

It served as a reminder of what he'd done to her in that very same position only minutes before.

As some semblance of normal brain function returned to her, Miyako realized that this wasn't at all how she had pictured the aftermath panning out. She had expected him to ask her to leave right away so that he could get back to whatever he'd been doing, or perhaps to gloat about his successful seduction and chastise her for being too gullible.

And yet, there he was, _cuddling_ her.

Suddenly self-conscious, she rolled away from him and got up, snatching her glasses in order to locate her clothes on the floor.

"I know you don't believe it," he said, voice almost too soft to hear, "but...you really are beautiful."

Miyako flushed at that, attempting to cover her naked front with her shirt. Then, with renewed desperation, she snatched up what remained of her clothing and hurried to the bathroom.

Once she was safely away from his prying eyes, she pulled down the toilet seat and sat on it, letting her clothes fall in a heap on the floor. And, before she could stop herself, she felt tears welling up in her eyes and trailing wetly down her cheeks.

She thought about how poor Hawkmon was somewhere on this base, suffering and alone – about how depressed Iori had been lately. About how she was lying to her parents and her friends, and how she'd just slept with the person responsible for putting her in the situation where she felt like she needed to lie in the first place.

The crying lasted for several minutes, Miyako literally shaking with the effort of keeping her sobs from escaping her lips. Once she had finally managed to get herself under control, she wiped her face with a towel and got dressed as quickly as she possible could. She needed to go home; she needed to get away from _him_.

He was still on the bed when she finally emerged into the bedroom, his handsome face marred with a frown. "You were crying," he stated, eying her, and Miyako silently cursed herself for not washing her face. His frown deepened still further. "You regret that we did this."

She bit her lip, finding herself unable to make her way to the door as she'd intended; her limbs simply refused to move.

He stood up and walked to her, saying, "This wasn't my idea, Miyako-san."

"I know," she whispered, taking a deep breath. "I don't blame you at all."

If anything, this just seemed to upset him more. "But you still regret it. Was it..." A pause. "Was it really that awful?"

There was something in his eyes – hurt, she thought – that made it hard for her to meet his gaze. She looked away. "It wasn't awful at all."

He stepped closer. "So then...why?"

She felt the beginnings of tears starting to form once more, and closed her eyes in an attempt to quash them. "You really don't know?" she asked. It seemed impossible that he couldn't understand why she'd be feeling so guilty.

"No," he replied, tone hardening. "Explain it to me."

She opened her eyes again when she was sure that she had herself back under control, and gave a small shrug. "If you can't figure it out for yourself, I doubt you'd understand even if I did explain." She pushed past him without much force. "I'm gonna go home, okay?"

When she started to move, however, she felt him grab her shoulder. "Don't go," he said. Then added, "Please."

"I can't sleep here; my parents will have a fit if I'm not in the house by the time they wake up." It was just an excuse, of course, even if it was a legitimate one.

His fingers tightened slightly on his shoulder. "I have an alarm clock – I can set it so that you wake up early enough to get back before that happens. I don't mind."

"Don't you have other things to do? You know, like coming up with new ways to torment my friends?"

His hand finally fell away from her shoulder. "Please...don't force me to make it into an order." He hugged her from behind, placing a kiss on the nape of her neck. " _Please._ "

"You do realize that's basically the same as giving me an order anyway, right?"

Releasing her from the embrace, he said, "There are pajamas in the cupboard you can borrow. I'm going to go and get an extra pillow."

So that was that, then.

* * *

As the Kaiser stalked out of the bedroom, he couldn't quite decide what he was feeling. He knew that it was pathetic, begging her like that – knew he'd probably regret it after she was finally gone. But the thought of not being near her was enough to send a bolt of panic shooting up his spine. It was almost frightening, how strong the desire was to wake up beside her, to kiss her good morning, to watch as she yawned and brushed her teeth and did the entirely mundane, regular things that everybody did after waking up.

But, for Miyako, it was a chore. Probably because she was thinking about her friends, and what they'd say if they knew what she'd done.

It was fine, he told himself. He was going to crush them all, and then she'd see just how pathetic they were. She'd finally understand that their opinions meant nothing.

Once he felt like he was calm enough, he want back to his room to find that Miyako had fallen asleep. Seeing her peaceful face brought the memories of what they'd done together flooding back.

For the longest time, he'd been sure that he wouldn't be comfortable sharing that level of intimacy with anyone, and yet...

The awe he still felt at how amazing it had been to have her in his arms – gasping and shivering because of _his_ fingers – was palpable. The _other_ part had been nice as well, of course, but it still somehow managed to pale in comparison to the indescribable feeling he'd had at that moment. He wondered briefly what it would be like to be inside her while she was like that, to be able to see her face and kiss her lips as she shuddered and moaned. Beneath him, this time, her nails digging into the skin of his back.

But it was a pointless fantasy, he realized, remembering with a sudden pang the puffiness of her eyes as she'd left the bathroom. She was probably never going to let him touch her like this again.

He didn't regret it, though. Even if this was the last time he'd ever get to be with her this way, he didn't think that he'd ever regret it. He'd cherish the memory for the rest of his life.

And, as he put down the pillow he'd acquired and gazed at Miyako's sleeping form, it all became clear:

This was what it meant to be in love with another person.

He gave into the impulse to run his fingers through her hair. As softly as he could, he whispered, "You're my beautiful butterfly, Miyako-san."

Then, laying beside her, he thought of the possibilities that lay ahead of him in the future.

Despite all of his doubts, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	16. Chapter 16

_She's sitting on damp grass, the blades tickling her feet and filling the air with the sweet scent of nature. Iori is sitting cross-legged beneath a tree, reading a thick book about criminal law, while Hikari, Takeru, Tailmon and Patamon play cards together and laugh. Upamon is perched atop Iori's head, apparently reading along with him, and Miyako feels herself smile at how utterly adorable the two of them look together._

_Daisuke approaches her with a soccer ball in hand, grinning from ear to ear. "You coming to play?"_

" _I don't know," says a voice from beside her. "I'm rather enjoying sitting, actually."_

_Miyako turns to look at the source of the voice, and is surprised to see Ichijouji Ken sitting beside her, a small smile on his face. "Ichijouji-kun?" she asks, not sure of what to make of his presence. "What are you doing here?"_

_He blinks in confusion, the smile becoming smaller still. "I haven't seen all of you in weeks," he says. "Is it really so strange that I would want to be here?"_

" _No," she replies, because another part of her believes that it isn't strange at all. Of course he'd be here with them – he's part of their team, and a close friend to all of them. She shakes her head as if to clear it."I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."_

_His expression remains uneasy. "Are you upset with me, Miyako-san?"_

_It's her turn to blink. "No way. Why would you think that I was?"_

" _Because..." He looks pointedly at the ground, frowning. "You haven't called me by my family name in years."_

" _Oh," she says, and suddenly remembers that he's her friend – possible even her best friend – and feels guilt twisting her insides into mush. "I didn't mean to, Ken-kun. I honestly don't know what's gotten into me today, but I'm not angry with you at all."_

_He finally meets her eyes again, and the smile returns to his face. Her heart skips a beat. "That's a relief," he says._

" _Geez, Chibimon," comes Daisuke's voice from behind them. "Do you have ta be such a pig all the time? Leave some snacks for Minomon and Poromon!"_

" _But I'm hungry!"_

_Miyako turns around to see Daisuke standing over three baby-level Digimon: Chibimon, Poromon, and one that she doesn't recognize. For a moment, she's thunderstruck by Poromon's presence, and has the intense desire to run over and hug him. But then she remembers that Poromon has never left her side, and that the strange Digimon is called Minomon, and the impulse passes._

" _Don't worry," says Poromon. "I'm quite full: Chibimon and Minomon can have the rest."_

" _Thanks, Poromon!" yell Minomon and Chibimon together._

_Miyako turns back to Ken. "I can't believe that this is real."_

_Ken's expression becomes bemused. "That's a rather odd thing to say." He smiles then, a little cheekily. "Though I have come to expect that from you."_

_She punches his lightly on the arm. "That's pretty rich, coming from you."_

_Laughing softly, he rubs at the spot where her fist connected. "Yeah, I suppose it is." Then a light blush stains his cheeks, and he looks down at the ground again. "Uh...would you..." He swallows. "That is to say, would you like to-"_

" _Oi! Are you coming to play or not, Ken?"_

_He sighs and pushes himself onto his feet. "I'm coming," he says, then gives her an apologetic look. "Can I talk to you again later? Daisuke's in one of his moods."_

_She nods. "No worries, Ken-kun."_

_He gives her one last smile, then runs off to meet Daisuke on the open grass. And then Miyako grins, feeling so happy that she's sure her chest is going to explode with it. This is how things are supposed to be, she thinks._

_This is the world that I want._

* * *

The alarm awakened her with an obnoxious beeping noise, and Miyako became acutely aware of how overheated she was. Not only was she wearing overly thick pajamas – the same ones she'd had all those weeks ago, when this mess had first started – but there was somebody pressed against her.

Obviously, it had all been a dream. Real life could never be that perfect.

"Good morning," said the 'somebody', brushing a strand of hair out of her face. He then kissed her forehead, his lips warm and dry against her skin.

"'Morning," she replied, blinking the sleep and the few stray tears out of her eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" The Kaiser's voice was low and scratchy, and somehow that made her shiver in spite of the heat.

"I slept fine." She pushed herself up and off the bed.

"Do you want to have a shower?" he asked, pushing himself onto his elbow. He was still shirtless, and Miyako had to force herself not to stare at his chest.

"No thanks – I'll have a bath at home." But her mouth did feel a little like sandpaper, so she decided to brush her teeth. She saw him walk up behind her in the mirror, and, when she was done, he kissed her properly on the lips. His mouth tasted of mint, and she found herself leaning into him, moaning a little in the back of her throat.

 _You're still going to do this after last night?_ Asked a little voice in the back of her when had she become such a selfish whore?

Abruptly, she broke away from the kiss. "I'm gonna go home, okay?"

He frowned slightly. "Alright, but I want to see you later."

Of course, he didn't bother to actually _ask_.

"Fine. I'll see you then."

And with that she left him, arriving back in her room feeling oddly numb. Not knowing what else to do, she began to get ready for the day ahead.

* * *

He sent her the coordinates for his desired meeting place around noon, feeling a queer combination of giddiness and apprehension. Miyako had been curt with him before, but this morning had been on a level all its own.

And yet, she'd said his name while she'd been sleeping.

It had been barely audible, a mumbled whisper and nothing more, but the memory of it still made his stomach twist. The other Chosen Children had said his name every now and then, always as a means of showing disrespect. He hated it when they used his name, even moreso than when Wormmon said it. And yet, when it had come from _her_ lips, his heart had skipped a beat.

"Is it almost finished?" asked Wormmon, obviously in one of his less presumptuous moods. Ken decided to indulge him.

"Not quite," he replied, typing in another string of code. The Digimon on the screen was looking more impressive by the day. "I still need to gather more data."

"...Do you think it's going to be strong?"

Ken sneered down at the little insect. "Of course, you fool. Do you think I'd design myself a _weak_ partner?" In truth, he found the whole notion of a Digimon "partner" idiotic, but it amused him to think of how the Chosen Children would react to him using such terminology to refer to his own creation.

"Your...partner..." The look in the Digimon's eyes could only be described as anguish, and the Kaiser felt a ridiculous pang of guilt.

He reminded himself not to be deceived. It wasn't even alive, and wasn't capable of feeling sorrow.

"Yes," he said, almost daring the creature to dwell on the point. "My _partner_."

Wormmon was wise enough to leave the subject lie, however, and scuttled out of the room without replying.

The Kaiser turned back to the console and continued to type, even as his thoughts drifted back to Miyako.

* * *

She was waiting for him when he arrived, her face a mask of apathy. Of all the expressions he'd ever seen her wear, this one was by far the most disconcerting – apathy didn't suit her at all.

Once he was standing in front of her, he instructed her to turn around. He then gave into the impulse to wrap his arms around her, his chest pressing intimately against her back. It was almost surreal, how the simple action of _holding_ someone could feel so good. It seemed to him that she fit perfectly in his arms. Surely she felt it as well?

Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gazed out at the open expanse before them. A massive valley, red earth broken by patches of deep, vibrant green; a giant, ancient-looking tree at the very center, leafy branches extended so high into the sky that they eclipsed the peeks of the tallest hills. Seeing this, did she feel the same awe that he did? Could she perhaps understand how amazing it had felt to be the only person in this vast, fantastical world?

"I would share it all with you, if you wanted me to." He held her tighter, loving the way her hair tickled against his nose. "It would be _ours_ , Miyako-san."

She sighed, and some words finally left her mouth. "It isn't yours to give away, Ichijouji-kun."

He smirked, lifting a single arm to point towards the Dark Tower. it was made all the more imposing by its solitude. "It _is_ mine. As are all three hundred or so square kilometers in this quadrant." He nuzzled her neck, then whispered, "And soon this entire world will be mine. It's inevitable."

She bristled as his arm returned to the embrace. "It's like you don't even know me at all," she muttered.

A lump formed in his throat. He had expected this, but it did little to soften the blow. His smirk fell away, and he couldn't keep his voice entirely steady. "Do you have any idea what I'm offering you, Miyako-san? Of what it _means_ to me?" He finally let go of her, his tone sharpening considerably. "Or do you just not care?"

"Oh, I _care_." But her tone made it clear that she cared in entirely the wrong way.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him, glaring down at the defiant expression on her face. "Are you that afraid of what I might do?" he asked lowly, and his smirk returned, nastier than before. He leaned in so that his face was mere inches from hers, and the smirk widened even further. "Or are you more afraid of what I might say?"

She crossed her arms in an obvious attempt to create some kind of buffer between them, rolling her eyes. "Oh yes, Ichijouji-kun. I'm _terrified_ of what your next stupid offer might be."

"What about this?" he breathed, leaning in further still until his mouth rested very close to her ear. She stiffened visibly. "I _love_ you."

"You're lying," she whispered, eyes very wide.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid not." Lightly, he tapped the side of his head. "And I know exactly what you're thinking, Miyako-san. 'Oh _no_ , that _monster_ really _is_ obsessed with me. There's no telling what horrible, _unspeakable_ things he might do now.'"

She said nothing to this, probably because he was right.

This thought was what finally caused his expression to shift. "Is it really so horrifying to you?" he asked, unable to keep the timbre of sadness from his voice. "Being loved by someone like me?"

She had the decency to look abashed. "Ichijouji-kun..." she began, but trailed off when words apparently failed her.

"My _name_ , Miyako-san."

She blinked in confusion.

More slowly: "I want you to call me by my name."

"I...thought you hated it when people did that."

Bitterly, he said, "Isn't that all the _more_ reason for you to say it?"

She licked her lips. "I'm not _suicidal_ , Ichijouji-kun. You threatened to _kill_ Daisuke that one time he used your name."

His eyes narrowed. "When you get angry enough, you've never cared about the repercussions of the things you say. The real reason why you've never called me by my name is because you haven't _wanted_ to."

"Yeah. I _don't_ want to. So?"

" _So_ , I want you to call me by my name."

She glared at him. "No."

"And if I said that you'd have to choose between that or 'Digimon Kaiser-sama'?"

A pause, and then, defiantly: "Digimon Kaiser-sama."

The anger welled up, tightening in his throat and causing his hands to clench into fists. But he forced himself to calm down. He knew that this would go nowhere if he continued to argue with her, so he decided to change his approach. "Please," he said softly, cupping the side of her face. "Even if it's just once."

She sighed, and he couldn't help but feel a bit triumphant at the obvious defeat in the sound. "Fine." Her eyes met his directly, and she said, very hesitantly, "Ken...kun."

In spite of everything, his stomach still did a little flip-flop at the sound of his name coming from her lips. He didn't know why it was so important to him that she say it, especially since it would have enraged him coming from anybody else. He supposed it was something of an affirmation: she was using formality to keep the distance between them, much the same way she had used her arms earlier. Now, that distance was closing, whether she liked it or not. "There. Was that so hard?"

"Ken-kun," she said again, this time more firmly. "I'm not _horrified_ that you like me."

"I _love_ you," he corrected, feeling that "like" didn't exactly encompass the depth of the emotion. Perhaps in the Real World he would have persisted in the pretense of "liking" her - held back by social conventions that insisted on understatement for the sake of dignity. But here? He wasn't going to bother.

"Yeah, okay. Um..." She flushed, and rubbed her neck nervously. "I don't actually know how to respond to that."

"You don't have to say anything," he said, tone harsher than he'd intended. "I know you don't feel the same way."

"If you already know, then I don't know why we're even here."

She really could be very cruel, he reflected. "I asked you here to propose a compromise."

"I'm listening," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

He steeled himself and asked, "Tomorrow...do you want to go with me to the Real World? On a date, that is."

Scoffing, she said, " _That's_ your idea of a compromise?"

He almost frowned, because it was clear she had no idea just how _much_ of a compromise it was. "You don't have to say yes. And, if you do agree, you can leave anytime you want. All I'm asking is that you give it a chance." He smiled sardonically. "If nothing else, you can take comfort in the fact that I won't be in the Digital World to further any of my nefarious plans."

"Why the Real World?" she asked.

The Kaiser paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer without revealing something that would undoubtedly make Miyako feel even more uncomfortable. How exactly could he admit that he had every intention of seeing her long after he was done in the Digital World without coming off as inexcusably presumptuous? He wanted to show her that he wasn't a coward –- that he hadn't come to the Digital World in order to _escape_. Wanted her to know that he wasn't nearly as oblivious as she seemed to think he was, and that he could navigate that world and its nuances without any trouble.

"You obviously feel more comfortable there, so I'm willing to bear the insects that will inevitably swarm around my head," he said.

She blew out a breath of air that made a few stray strands of hair dance around her face. "Fine then; I'll go on a date with you. But not in Odaiba."

"Of course. I understand that it would be _shameful_ for you if your friends to find out about our relationship."

Her eyebrows twitched. "Okay, let me just make one thing perfectly clear: this isn't a _relationship_. You like _me_ -" Another breath passed harshly from between her lips, "-or whatever you wanna call it. But me? Mostly, I'm just _afraid_ of you."

His mouth tightened even as his throat constricted. And before he could stop himself, he said, "You weren't afraid of me last night, as I recall."

An angry blush sprung almost instantly to her cheeks, and it was only a moment later that her hand was flying towards his cheek. He caught her wrist before the slap could land, however, and glared down at her. Then he pulled her towards him and caught her lips in a kiss, sliding his free hand into her hair. At first she struggled, but it was mere seconds before she began to kiss him back. When he pulled back from the kiss, he released her wrist and slid his arms behind her, hugging her tightly against his body. His heart was pounding heavily, his chest so tight that he could barely breathe.

And, holding her softness against him, smelling her hair and feeling the warmth of her body seeping through her clothes, he realized that he _wanted_ her. It took a great deal of willpower to finally let her go, but he was afraid of what he'd do if the embrace continued.

His throat had gone incredibly dry, and it required some effort to speak. "You should go," he all but rasped.

Miyako's eyes had become unfocused, as they often did when he kissed her, but that statement made them widen in fear. "Are you really that angry?" she asked, and her voice was nearly as raspy as his.

She really _was_ afraid of him, he realized. Or rather, she was afraid of what he might do to that pet of hers. And her pathetic friends.

As always, the reminder left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he knew that now wasn't the time to confront her about it. However, it did make his previous resolve waver considerably; if he were to reach over and kiss her again, he knew that she'd forget about the others. When he was kissing her, touching her, _inside_ of her, making her shiver and moan with his fingers – for those scant glorious minutes, the Kaiser knew that he was the only person Miyako could see.

"I'm not angry," he finally managed to say. "But I'm going to kiss you again if you stay."

She blushed lightly pink, perhaps picking up on the implications. "Okay, yeah, I should probably go. Where do you want us to meet tomorrow?"

"We can meet at your apartment," he said. "And you don't need to worry about your friends; I'm sure they'll be quite preoccupied destroying my hard work." That was only partially a lie, as he intended to give them something rather less pleasant to distract themselves with. But Miyako didn't need to know that part.

She probably guessed as much, however, because she nodded shortly without saying a word, then turned briskly to leave. It was alright, though - he knew that he'd see her again soon. Without masks or pretenses; without the Digital World as a constant reminder about the conflict between them.

And, for the first time in a long time, he was almost excited to assume the role of Ichijouji Ken.

Almost.


	17. Chapter 17

Miyako woke up with an all-too-familiar dread. Today, she was going to have to spend several awkward hours doing her best not to antagonize the boy who claimed to be in love with her.

Today was her _date_ with Ichijouji Ken.

Oh, how she would have longed for this just a few months earlier. Handsome, smart, polite Ken - the perfect boy, going on a date with a spazz like her. Of course, she'd been blissfully ignorant of his true nature back then.

She blew out a harsh breath and got out of bed, wanting nothing more than to climb back in and sleep until this whole day was over. Certainly, the last thing she felt like doing was going to school. But school couldn't be avoided any more than she her date, so she had a quick shower, brushed her teeth, and put on her school uniform. She stopped by her family store on the way to the subway, partly to greet her father, and partly to buy a cream-filled mini-cake for her breakfast. Okay, fine: _two_ cream-filled mini-cakes. And a packet of shrimp-flavored tapioca chips. And a tuna mayo onigiri.

Her father raised an eyebrow at her unhealthy purchases as he rung them up at the register, but didn't say anything. Between the two of her parents, her father was definitely the quieter, which she couldn't help but be thankful for just then. The last thing she needed was her mother getting on her case about her weight.

The reprieve provided by the greasy deliciousness was very brief, but it was enough to settle her nerves to a manageable degree. That is, she somehow managed to make it to school, and to sit through her classes, without having a panic attack.

She wasn't even surprised to find him waiting for her in her room when she got home, dressed in the elegant black uniform of his no-doubt prestigious high school. She didn't even bother to greet him. "What would you have done if my parents came in here?" she asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice. She might've asked who the hell he thought he was, coming into her room without asking, but she already knew his answer.

Smirking, he replied, "I already checked to make sure that nobody was here. And, in any case, I'm very good at coming up with plausible excuses."

She sighed, too emotionally exhausted to keep being angry. "So I guess I'm not gonna be able to change out of my uniform, huh?"

Had this been Daisuke instead of the Kaiser, he might've made some lewd suggestion about her changing in front of him. But Ichijouji Ken _wasn't_ Daisuke, so he had the courtesy to get flustered. "I..." His cheeks went ever-so-slightly pink. "I could leave for a few minutes, if you want to change that badly."

She shook her head and said, "Don't bother," temporarily forgetting her vow not to antagonize him. "Let's just get this over with."

His expression sobered. "Is this really going to be such a chore for you?"

It was ridiculous, but the kicked-puppy look in his eyes made her feel guilty. She couldn't quite bring herself to apologize, though, so she said, "Let's just go, Ichijouji-kun."

He straightened from his position leaning against a wall and walked up to her, reaching his hand out in an obvious attempt to cup her face. She jerked her head away before he could make contact, however, and the hand dropped back to his side. A part of her regretted the action almost immediately, and not just because of the hurt in his eyes. In truth, a very big part of her _wanted_ him to touch her, to kiss her, to occupy her mind so that all these uncomfortable, confusing feelings could just _go away_.

But she hated herself enough as it was.

Wordlessly, they walked together out of the apartment, Miyako's hands becoming clammy as she imagined the other Chosen Children catching them. She knew it wasn't entirely rational - that Ken probably wouldn't have shown up in her apartment if her friends weren't safely occupied with whatever horror he was subjecting them to. But whoever accused Inoue Miyako of being a rational person?

"So where are we going?" she asked as they made their way to the subway. "I don't exactly have a ton money to spare."

"Neither do I," he replied, and reached into one of his pockets to pull out a small pile of notes. "This is all I had on me when I decided to stay in the Digital World." From what she can see, it totaled to about 4000 yen, perhaps 5000 at most. Her own wallet contained a grand total of 3000.

"You didn't really think this through, did you?" she said flatly, finally having entirely given up on trying to keep an amicable atmosphere between them.

He shot her a dirty look, putting the money back in his pocket. "I have been rather preoccupied," he admitted sourly.

Miyako felt a smirk spread across her lips, finding some comfort in how the tables seem to have turned, however slightly, since the day before. The Kaiser was definitely out of his element here; she could see it in everything from the stiffness of his gait to the tenseness in his shoulders. And even though she knew it was foolish, she couldn't help but want to needle him. "Having a little trouble defending your empire, Digimon Kaiser-sama?"

At this he rolled his eyes, which was not exactly the reaction she was hoping for, and said, "Hardly. Your friends are as incompetent as ever."

"Oh yeah? So then what's got you so 'preoccupied'?" She had meant to back him into a corner - to have him make some blustered excuse that called his bluff - but she realized too late that she already knew his answer. And it was an answer she wasn't at all keen on hearing voiced aloud.

His expression remained unchanged as he said, matter-of-factly, "Realizing you're in love with someone does have a tendency to throw you off-balance, Miyako-san. I don't see any shame in admitting that."

Her cheeks heated as her stomach dropped, and, even though a part of her brain was yelling at her to leave it at that, she continued. "I don't get you at all. For ages you've been denying that you have any feelings for me whatsoever." She deepened her voice slightly, putting on her best imitation of him. " _'I'm not making this cake for_ _ **you**_ _, Miyako-san. You're just reading too much into it. And there's no way the time we spend together is like_ _ **dating**_ _.'_ " She shook her head. "And now all of a sudden you have to declare your undying love for me every five minutes. Aren't you even going to apologize for being such an ass about your feelings before now, or is it too much to admit that you're not actually perfect?"

This earned her a glare. "I've never once claimed that I'm beyond making errors. Yes, I was wrong about my feelings. You'll pardon me, but I've never felt this way about anyone before; it's only natural that it would take some time for me to come to terms with it."

"That was a _great_ apology," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

For a moment, she was sure that he was going to reply in kind, but he took a deep breath instead, his face softening into the somber expression from before. "I know what you're trying to do, Miyako-san, so please just stop it."

"Oh really? And what am I trying to do?"

He sighed. "You're trying to start a fight. If you don't want to do this, just say so. I already said that you can go home any time you want."

His words took the wind out of her sails, and she visibly deflated. "Yeah," she muttered, but her tone lacked its previous acid. "I'm sure that'll work out just great for me in the long run."

He said nothing, and they continued on in silence until they walked onto the train. As always, the car was full of commuters, and both of them had to stand. Miyako was starting to wonder if he'd decided to give her the silent treatment when she felt his fingers twining around hers, and she looked at him sharply. "What are you _doing_?" she whispered, still calm enough to not want to draw too much attention.

"Do I really need to answer that?" he shot back just as softly, his hand tightening around hers. "Or is it only appropriate to do this when one of us is drunk?"

The reminder of that night made her cheeks burn with shame, and she seriously considered yanking her hand free. She didn't, though, and she decided not to think too hard about why.

"We should get off at Omori Station," said Ken as the train began to move. "Shinagawa Aquarium is only a few minutes' walk from there, and from what I remember, the entrance fee wasn't too bad, even for adults."

Miyako smiled slightly in spite of herself. "Of course you'd wanna go to an aquarium."

"I'm not sure what you mean by that," he said, with a hint of defensiveness.

With a light shrug, she replied, "It just seems like the type of thing you'd like, since you're a nature lover in the middle of a crowded city. I bet you were one of those kids that walked around with their mouths hanging open because they were mesmerized by all the pretty fish."

He said nothing at first, but the expression on his face was as close to awed as she had ever seen it...outside of a certain context that she was trying very hard not to think about. "Sometimes..." he began, a small smile crossing his lips. "You really can be surprisingly insightful."

Her smile widened a bit further. "I'm not sure whether that's a compliment or an insult."

The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly. "It's just an observation."

"I bet you also liked the park," she said. "Were you one of those little boys who would squat down to watch the ants?"

"...Yeah," he replied. "I didn't realize it was common enough to put me in a category."

"Oh, I don't think it's that common. It's just..." She gave out a small, wistful laugh. "It's what Iori-kun used to do. You and him may not agree on anything - and I'm pretty sure he hates you about as much as you hate him - but you both have this hyper-logical way of looking at the world."

The smile on Ken's face vanished. "Don't compare me to that insect," he snarled.

And now she'd gone and said something wrong again. "He's not an _insect,_ " she shot back. "He's honest, dependable and smart. Not to mention one of the strongest people I know. If you'd been through even half of the crap that he has, you probably wouldn't be able to get out of bed in the morning."

He was fully glaring now, and his hand had tightened considerably around hers. Not so much that it hurt, but enough that she could tell she'd struck a nerve. When he didn't say anything, she continued, more gently, "You can insult me all you like, because I know I deserve it. But Iori-kun is one of my most precious people, and I won't stand for you badmouthing him."

The glare softened, though a frown continued to furrow his brows. "Could you-" He sighed, then, and his grip on her hand loosened. "Is it really necessary to mention them at all?"

She was sorely tempted to point out how ridiculous he was being. She'd known Iori since he was a toddler, after all, and for years she had alternated between babysitting him and fixing his computer. But she had to remind herself that this course of action would certainly lead nowhere productive, so she said, "Okay, fine. I won't mention the others if you promise not to insult them."

She half expected him to snap at her that she was in no position to cut some kind of deal with him, but he didn't. Instead, he nodded slightly. "I suppose that's fair," he said.

"Good. That's...good."

The rest of the train-ride progressed in silence, Miyako acutely aware of how warm Ken's hand felt intertwined with hers. She debated endlessly on whether or not to break off the contact, because it was making her stomach do some very odd things –- a feeling somewhere between butterfly-anticipation and tightening panic. In the end, she decided to leave things as they were.

They exited the train when they reached their stop, and Miyako found herself starting to hate the yawning silence between them. A conversation would likely result in yet another uncomfortable argument, but she was willing to take that risk.

"So what's your favorite kind of fish?"

He must have been as unhappy with the silence as her, because he almost looked relieved. "Sharks," he replied.

Miyako smiled a little. "That's cheating. Yeah, they're technically fish, but that wasn't what I meant."

"In that case," he continued, quirking an eyebrow, "I suppose I'll have to say piranhas."

"I doubt they'll have piranhas at Shinagawa," she noted.

He smirked. "That's a reasonable assumption. I'll just have to go to the Amazon at some point to see them up close."

Miyako tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I think I'd prefer to go to Rio de Janeiro, myself."

He shook his head. "If I'd choose any city to visit in South America, it would be Cuzco."

"Because of Machu Picchu, right?" There was a wistful expression on his face that made him look younger than he actually was. "You're interested in archaeology, so it makes sense."

He nodded slightly. "Actually, I'd like to travel to many places in South America. Although..." he let out a rather sardonic laugh. "It's all just a pipe dream, in the end. The closest thing I'll get to seeing any ancient monuments are the poor imitations I make of them in the Digital World." He fell silent for a few seconds, his expression becoming neutral, then asked, "So what about you? If you had enough resources and time, where would be the one place you'd want to go?"

"Wow, that's kind of a tough question." She actually had to wrack her brain for a while. "If I had to choose just one, it would have to be...New York."

His eyebrows went up. "Because of the food?"

Miyako smiled sheepishly. "Bingo." She closed her eyes and let out a longing sigh. "Steak, pizza, hamburgers - it would be _heaven_."

When she opened her eyes, Ken was looking at her with an almost painfully fond expression. "You really do love food, don't you?"

She felt her cheeks go warm. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: food is the best thing in the world."

And that's when he stopped walking, causing Miyako to stop as well. He let go of her hand and stepped in front of her, blue eyes boring down into hers with an odd, unfocused intensity. Reaching up to cup her face, he said, "I really want to kiss you, Miyako-san."

Her cheeks flared even hotter, and her eyes darted from side to side. "But...we're in public."

He nodded slowly, though his hand lingered on her cheek for a while more. After he broke off contact, however, he didn't reclaim his hold on her hand. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pant-pockets, his face becoming unreadable. He resumed walking without saying anything, and Miyako fell into step beside him.

* * *

Ichijouji Ken was beginning to remember very acutely why he'd left the Real World in the first place, and just how frustrating it was to be held back by propriety. His hands were clenched inside of his pockets, and a part of him was sorely tempted to call the whole thing off. It wasn't as if Miyako was all too keen on it in the first place. She'd be more than glad, he thought, for him to give her an out.

But leaving now would feel like surrender, and there was no way his pride could abide it.

They arrived at the ticket office of the aquarium without any further conversation, much to his chagrin. He'd genuinely been enjoying the easy, familiar way she'd been engaging with him. A little too much, if he was honest with himself; it was absolutely ridiculous to enjoy such frivolous banter so much, and it made him feel like a fool.

That was ultimately the most humiliating part: he would rather feel like a fool than not have her by his side.

"I'm sorry," said the teller apathetically, looking down at her nails. "We're closed for scheduled maintenance. You'll have to come back some other time."

His annoyance grew, and it took a fair amount of his willpower not to scowl.

"Well, that's frustrating," said Miyako. "I guess we'll have to think of something else."

"Ah," he murmured, even as his nails dug into the flesh of his palms.

She lapsed into thoughtful silence for a moment, then brightened. "We could get something to eat around here. Talking about food has gotten me hungry."

The tension eased somewhat, his hands loosening, and for a moment he marveled at how endearing he found Miyako's idiosyncrasies. There was little about her that he didn't find endearing, if he was perfectly honest. Even when she was being obtuse, or obnoxious, or saying something idiotic – he could never quite shake the feeling of awe he got just from being near her.

This whole experience might just be bearable, he mused, if he could reach over and pull her into an embrace. But she had been perfectly correct: they were in public, and just the thought of doing something like that where any stranger could see...

"Alright," he said, doing a sweep of the area. There were several seafood-based restaurants just down the street. "Though these all look fairly..."

"Expensive," she finished. "Yeah, we should probably walk a while 'till we find someplace less fancy."

So walk they did.

* * *

They ended up choosing a modest family-style diner, mostly because the menu boasted prices that wouldn't bankrupt the both of them.

"I'll have the fried mackerel and ramen combo," Miyako told their waiter, handing him her menu.

The waiter then looked at Ken expectantly. "Nothing for me, thank you," said Ken, with such convincing shyness that, for a moment, Miyako could almost believe it wasn't an act.

"You're not hungry?" she asked, taking a sip of her water.

"Not particularly."

"So then why didn't you just ask me to get something from a food cart? It would've been faster."

He frowned a little. "It's not as if this is some kind of chore for me," he said, and gave a quick look to either side of them. "It's not too crowded, and it's a relief to get out of the street."

"Well...okay then. If it doesn't bother you."

He sighed, steepling his hands under his chin. "You think I'm unbelievably petty, don't you?"

She had said as much during one of their first conversations, but she still bit her lip, unsure of whether or not to answer. Finally, she said, "You do have a tendency to hold grudges, Ichijouji-kun."

"I won't deny that," he replied, gaze impassive. "But I don't generally extend that tendency to minor trivialities."

"No offense, but - you could've fooled me." She realized too late that this remark should really have stayed safely in her brain.

He was hiding it very well, but his eyes betrayed his growing anger. "Yes, we've already established that you think the things that matter to me are trivial."

There was a darkish spot on the table, and she began to rub it idly with the tip of her index finger. "If you really don't want to fight with me today, then we should probably not talk about this."

So he didn't press further, though she could almost see the cogs turning in his head, filing this confrontation away for further exploration later.

She could hardly wait.

Her food arrived quickly enough, and, as she was digging into her deliciously moist filet of mackerel, she was willing to admit that at least part of her crankiness must have been due to hunger. It was around her fourth bite that she began to feel awkward. "Are you sure you wouldn't like the ramen? The fish should be enough for me."

"No thank you," he answered stiffly.

She bit her lip again, feeling, more than even anxiety, an absolutely ridiculous sense of guilt. "Listen...I wasn't trying to insult you. I just feel bad when I act selfishly without even realizing it."

He remained entirely silent.

She cursed herself for always ruining everything, and went back to her food.

Though the diner was relatively empty, a booth a few rows down from their table was occupied by a pair of high-school aged girls. Up until that point, Miyako had been only vaguely aware of their presence, mostly because they both kept shooting not-so-surreptitious looks towards Ken. But then one of the girls decided to say, very loudly, "I can't believe that such a boring-looking girl managed to land such a cutie. I'd look just as uninterested if I had to sit across from her."

"I know, right?" said her companion, shooting Miyako a disdainful look over her shoulder, making an obvious show of whipping her long, well-groomed hair. "I mean, look at her stuffing her face when she should totally be on a diet. I bet she only gets guys by being a complete slut who'll do anything in bed."

Miyako, already on edge from her not-confrontation with Ken, felt her mouth tightening, rage starting to edge its way up the back of her throat.

"You're way prettier than her, Eri-chan. Maybe you should go over there and talk to him."

'Eri-chan' giggled. "No way, Saya-chan. You know I already have a boyfriend."

Before Miyako could think better of it, she had stood up, slamming her palms down on the table. The broth of her ramen jumped dangerously close to the edge of the bowl. "You have something to say to me?" she yelled, drawing the attention of the diner's other patrons. Including Ken. Her cheeks burned in mingled anger and embarrassment.

The two girls, however, didn't seem particularly fazed. "Ah, what is that horrible noise? I think it's a fly buzzing somewhere."

Nostrils flaring, Miyako could barely restrain herself from storming over to their table. "Well excuse me for being such a boring little fly!" And with that, she took out her wallet and slammed some money down next to her glass, then grabbed Ken's hand and dragged him from his seat.

He he offered no resistance, and soon they were on the sidewalk, Miyako taking deep breaths to calm herself down. When she was finally coherent enough to notice the expression on his face, what was left of her anger evaporated.

She may have been the one yelling, but she could see that he was much angrier than her. His eyes were very narrow, his mouth pulled tight into a thin line, and it made her stomach drop in worry.

"Sorry about that," she said softly, hands clasping reflexively in front of her. "I didn't mean to embarrass you by drawing all that attention."

If he'd heard her, he didn't make any indication. Instead, he took her hand firmly in his own, walking in the direction of the train station. About halfway there, however, Ken stopped, his attention caught by a television broadcasting through a store window.

For a moment, Miyako was going to ask him what was wrong, until the words on the screen caught her eye.

" _Mother of missing boy hospitalized after collapsing at home. Husband claims stress."_

The picture on the screen was equally eye-catching: a matronly woman lying in a hospital bed, wearing an oxygen mask.

She looked to her side, watching the way Ken's face twisted in pure, disbelieving horror. "Ichijouji-kun..."

He didn't return her gaze, eyes still fixated on the news story. "I need to go."

And then he took off at a run to the train station, leaving her standing dumbstruck in the middle of the sidewalk. Somehow, she couldn't quite bring herself to run after him.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains references to attempted suicide.

Before he could fully register what his body was doing, Ken found himself on the landing leading up to his apartment. He didn't fully remember how he'd gotten there, or how much time had passed. Vaguely, he was aware of nausea, and an intense desire to _leave right now._ But he couldn't. He just...couldn't.

He walked to his apartment in a haze, fumbling with the keys in his pocket along the way. It was odd, he thought, that they were even there. He'd had no intention of seeing his parents just yet. Not for a while yet, if he was honest.

The apartment was empty, so he went to the living room and sat down on the couch, putting his head in his hands.

He waited.

* * *

He heard the front door open about an hour later, and a stream of light filtered into the living room from the hallway. Ken hadn't even noticed it getting dark.

A few moments later, his father stepped into the living room, flipping the light-switch as he did so. It made Ken's eyes burn.

There was silence for a long moment, and then, "...Ken."

He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to new brightness. "Hello, father."

"Where..." His father looked haggard, dark circles like bruises under his eyes. "We thought--"

 _What_ did _you think?_ He wanted to ask. _I made my intentions clear in the note I left on my computer._ But, seeing his father's expression, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"You're alive," said his father.

"...Yeah," said Ken.

"Where have you been?"

Ken frowned. "Does it really matter?"

His father blinked as if he were trying to get something out of his eyes. "Does it matter," he said, bewildered. Then, his voice rising, "Does it _matter._ "

Swallowing, Ken said, "I told you why I was leaving in the note."

His father said nothing for a while, staring at Ken as if seeing him for the first time. "So it really was you who wrote it."

"Of course it was," said Ken. And then, "Is mother..." He swallowed again. "Is mother alright?"

"No," said his father, and Ken could hear the anger in his tone. "Generally, people aren't alright when they end up in the _hospital_." He sighed. "But it isn't life-threatening, if that's what you're asking. At least, not anymore."

Ken felt his stomach plummet to his feet.

_Not anymore._

"I don't actually know what to say to you," his father said softly, and Ken saw that his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. It was strange, because he had never once seen his father this angry before. "After everything you've put me and your mother through-" He closed his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose. "For all we knew, that note on your computer...it could've been from some psycho setting it up to look like you'd run away." He opened his eyes once more, but didn't look at Ken directly. "Your mother and I were taken in for _questioning_."

Ken's own temper was starting to fray, even as his insides felt like a pile of frightened, writhing snakes.

His father continued. "You didn't even have to decency to call –- to let us know that you were _alive_."

Before he could stop himself, he said, "Yes, I'm terribly sorry for causing you such an _inconvenience_." He was unable to keep the bitterness out of his tone.

Abruptly, his father finally looked at him, his dark eyes blazing with nothing less than pure fury. He then stood up without saying a word, strode over to Ken, and grabbed his wrist tightly enough for it to be painful. Ken was probably strong enough to break out of the grip if he really tried, but the look in his father's eyes had paralyzed him.

"Come with me," his father growled, and Ken didn't resist as he was lead to the bathroom. Once there, his father flung open the cabinet above the sink, and pulled out a bottle that Ken recognized as sleeping pills.

"You're a smart boy, so I don't need to explain what these are." His hand tightened around the container, beginning to shake. "And I don't need to explain what it means when somebody swallows an entire container of them with a bottle of sake."

Vaguely, Ken became aware that he was feeling nauseous again.

"It was sheer luck that I got off work early that day, or else Mama would've probably died. After she'd had her stomach pumped, she told me-" He let out a harsh breath. "She told me that she wished she _had_ , because she couldn't bear to live in a world without her babies."

Ken swallowed, but it did nothing to settle his stomach. His hands began to shake.

His father's mouth was set in a hard line. "So now you have nothing to say."

Even with the nausea, Ken became aware that he was angry. More angry than he'd been in a long time – and stuck with nothing around that he could kick across the room with impunity. "So she finally realized that niisan is dead," he said, voice barely above a whisper.

"And what... _exactly_...is that supposed to mean?"

"You already know, don't you? The only reason Mama was able to move on at all is because she's been pretending that I'm niisan all these years." He smirked, the anger rising like bile in the back of his throat. "But niisan never would have run away, so now it's finally hit her that she was left with the wrong son after all."

So caught up in his rage, he didn't even notice the blow was coming until the impact knocked him to the ground, a terrible pain blossoming on his cheek.

"Get out," his father hissed. "Get out, and don't come back until you can _beg_ your mother for forgiveness." He shook his head. "Or don't. It's your choice, since you've obviously decided that you're an adult now."

Ken rose wordlessly to his feet, his expression completely blank. The rage was now gone, replaced with a gnawing emptiness that was infinitely worse. And the look on his father's face made it absolutely clear that he meant every word he had just said. Shamefully, Ken felt his eyes burning.

His father's unforgiving gaze drilled into his back as he turned to leave.

* * *

Miyako's insides churned as she waited in her room, debating whether or not to go over to Iori's and tell him everything. Ken was a very good martial artist, if she remembered his television spot correctly. But then, so was Iori. In this world, it'd be entirely possible to ambush Ken and take his digivice, effectively ending his reign and terror once and for all.

Of course, doing _that_ would require that she tell Iori everything else that had been going on. It would also be a despicably low blow, given the reason why Ken had run off in the first place. Could you still consider yourself a hero if you were willing to take advantage of the fact that the villain's mother was in the hospital?

Her internal debate was silenced by the sound of her doorbell ringing. Breathing deeply, she went to pick of the intercom receiver.

" _Could you please let me in, Miyako-san?"_

She sighed, considering in all seriousness simply hanging up and going to bed. After everything that Ken had put her through – and would no doubt do to her in the future – she didn't owe him an ounce of compassion. But really, it wasn't about compassion; he would no doubt find a way back to the Digital World, regardless of whether she let him back into her apartment. And he would find some way to punish her for leaving him in the lurch.

She clearly didn't have a choice.

"I'll be down in a minute," she said. There was a button on the intercom that would open the gate for him automatically, but she didn't want to risk him running into Iori. He could very well be back from the Digital World by now, after all, and it was far less risky to lead Ken to her apartment through a less obvious route than the one he was familiar with.

Still risky enough, though, to make her heart pound heavily against her ribcage.

Ken was waiting by the gate when she arrived, and she couldn't help the way her breath stuttered when she caught sight of his face. His cheek was swollen, and he looked to be developing a rather nasty black eye. Hurriedly, she let him inside, gently grasping his wrist in order to guide him back to her apartment. Iori was blessedly absent from their path.

"What happened?" she asked, once they were safely inside her bedroom. "Were you mugged or something?"

"It's nothing," he replied. And it was one of the most obvious lies she had ever heard in her life.

Even so, his overly-calm delivery of the lie indicated that something was actually very wrong, and Miyako didn't think it all too wise to pry. She gestured to her bed. "Lie down. I'll go get you something from the freezer to put on it."

He sat and stared at the wall, but didn't lie down.

She came back a few minutes later holding a bag of frozen okra – a vegetable she despised, and felt very happy to sacrifice – and handed it to him. He pressed it gingerly against the swollen cheek, wincing slightly in spite of his otherwise perfect imitation of a robot.

Miyako sat down beside him, unsure of exactly what to say. She had a feeling that trying to comfort him over his mother would only make things worse.

To her surprise, it was he who finally broke the silence. "You think I'm a bad person, don't you."

Miyako's eyebrows couldn't decide if they wanted to go up or bunch down. They compromised by staying in place. "I don't actually know how to answer that," she said.

"It's alright – you don't have to lie. We both know you do."

She bit her bottom lip, wondering if this was another one of his bizarre attempts to test her. Eventually, she said, "I don't know if you're a bad person, Ichijouji-kun. What I do know is that you do bad _things_."

His lips twisted into a bitter smile. "A person's character is measured by their actions, Miyako-san. If you think I do bad things, you must think that I'm a bad person. I appreciate your desire to be diplomatic, but it really isn't necessary."

"Well, I _don't_ appreciate being _told_ what I think," she said, unable to keep some irritation from coloring the words. "And no. For the record, I don't actually think that you're an inherently bad person."

The laugh he let out was just as bitter as his smile. "So then what sort of person _do_ you think I am?"

She hesitated, swallowing past a sudden lump in her throat, then said, "I think that you're...damaged."

The smile fell away, replaced once more by the carefully blank expression. "I wonder: is this what they call Stockholm Syndrome?"

Miyako couldn't help rolling her eyes. "Yeah, alright – I'm just delusional. Only a happy, well-adjusted person would run away to another world to play at being Napoleon."

 _That_ certainly got a reaction; he looked at her as if _she_ was the one who'd punched him in face.

Still, he had been the one to start this, so she continued, "Even somebody as stupid as me can see that you're miserable, Ichijouji-kun. I don't even think that being in the Digital World makes you happy; it just makes you less _sad_."

His eyes narrowed, but she couldn't tell if he was angry or not. "Do you remember when I first held you captive?" he asked softly.

"That's not the sort of thing you forget," she replied.

He was actually looking at her now, though one of his eyes was obscured by the bag of okra. In another context, she may have even found it funny. "You said that you would punch me if you ever got out."

"Did I?" Honestly, Miyako rarely remembered the exact details of what she said when she was really angry.

"Yeah," he said, nodding slightly.

"Oh." She rubbed the back of her neck. "Well, I was furious at the time. I'm not actually a violent person by nature, and it's not like I could ever actually land a punch."

"All of that may be true," he said. "But would you say that I deserved this? Even if I'm not -– how did you phrase it? –- an 'inherently bad person'?"

Miyako couldn't bring herself to answer that question, which was an answer in itself.

"I see," he said, setting down the bag of okra.

He kissed her.

And she was so surprised that she let him, her mouth slipping open as if it had a mind of its own. It wasn't just the fact that he'd kissed her that was surprising, either – it was the nature of the kiss itself. Gentle and very deliberate, every press of his tongue seemed designed to make her tingle all over, to make her mind unable to form complete, coherent thoughts.

He kissed her for what seemed like an awfully long time, and she wondered fuzzily if his eye was still hurting. If it was, it didn't seem to be bothering him.

At some point he had pushed her onto her back, though she couldn't for the life of her remember when that might've been, and one of his hands had snaked its way beneath her shirt, fingertips skimming over the skin of her belly, making the muscles there twitch and her entire body shudder. It took her a while to register that the hand was now moving lower, beneath the ruffles of her skirt, teasing the equally sensitive flesh of her inner thigh.

She gasped into his mouth, trying in vain to increase the pace of the kiss. But he wouldn't relent, the push and pull of his tongue remaining as measured and deliberate as ever. She groaned in frustration.

And then he pulled back, almost as if to punish her for her insolence, his mouth coming to rest very close to her ear. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he said, voice thick with promise, and the hand on her thigh moved ever-so-slightly higher.

She knew that she should.

But she really, _really_ didn't want to.

His fingers enacted his promise at her silence, moving up to rub at her through her panties. The angle was just right – she supposed it was a testament to his genius, that he was already so good at it after only one previous try – and she threw her head back against the pillow, breath stuttering.

The build was slow at first, almost teasing. But then he was kissing her again, pushing away the crotch of her panties so that he could dip two fingers _inside,_ his thumb rubbing just above, and it felt so good that she thought she might just die of asphyxiation.

He broke the kiss again, his ministrations slowing to a tortuous pace. "Say my name, Miyako-san."

"Ichijouji...kun," she said, voice strained and breathless.

Leaning in closer, he brushed his lips against her cheek. "You know which one I mean," he said.

She ground up against his hand, trying to increase the friction, and felt dirtier than she ever had in her life. She hated that she loved this so much.

She hated that she didn't hate _him_.

"Ken-kun," she gasped out, trembling. "Please, Ken-kun."

Though she couldn't see it, she could _feel_ his smirk curving against the flesh of her cheek. "Good girl," he said, and the pressure was back.

It didn't take long after that. A few steady strokes of his thumb and she there –- wrung out and shivering, eyes closing involuntarily. She only managed to open them once the aftershocks had fully subsided.

Once she did, however, she found that Ken was sitting up, his attention focused on the fingers that – that had been _in her._ He gently moved the digits apart, revealing strings of moisture caught between them. "What would your comrades think, if they found out?" His eyes flicked to her face. "If they knew that you let me touch you like this."

In spite of her arms still wobbling slightly, she pushed herself upright. Then she opened her mouth, only to close it again; she couldn't find it in herself to answer.

He reached over to the tissue box on her desk, pulled one out, and used it to wipe the fingers clean. "You don't need to tell me, because I think I have an idea. They would probably look at you the way that _you_ always look at _me_."

Her eyes began to burn, but she didn't cry.

He smirked bitterly, tossing the tissue into the waste basket next to her desk. "For what it's worth, Miyako-san: I don't think that you're a bad person."

Shame coiling at the back of her throat, she drew her legs up to her chest. Unsure of what to do, she said, "It's probably not the right time to say this, but I really am sorry about your mother. I hope she gets better soon."

His smirk fell away, replaced by that carefully neutral expression that was even more unnerving. He stood up without saying another word and walked over to her computer.

And then he was gone.


	19. Chapter 19

The Kaiser spent most of the next day pointedly not thinking about his mother or father, though the stinging in his eye served as a constant reminder. He'd always known that they'd be better off without him, and the events of the previous evening had only confirmed his suspicions.

He found that he didn't have the energy to actively foil his enemies' plans to destroy his Dark Towers, so he spent the day working on other projects instead. It was soothing. Especially when he thought of how the outcome of these projects would forever shift the balance of power in his favor.

He'd let them win a few battles. In the end, he would win the war.

Miyako also lingered on his mind, but he didn't make an effort to keep those particular thoughts at bay. They were painful in a very different kind of way.

Indeed, he felt as though he was finally started to get some clarity about the matter of Inoue Miyako. He saw now how completely he'd mismanaged the entire situation.

Miyako would never return his feelings, he knew. She pitied him, she _wanted_ him, but she would never love him. Not the way that he loved her. And why would she? All he'd ever done was humiliate her and cause her pain.

If only he'd recognized his feelings for what they truly were sooner. If only he'd realized that he could get her to squirm and beg by touching her the right way. If only he'd had some modicum of foresight, instead of acting like a child with a new toy.

He was struck by a sudden, bitter wave of envy, thinking of how she cared for her friends. Because he knew that not a single one of them loved her the way that he did, too blinded by social conditioning to understand her true worth. But the depth of his feelings meant nothing compared to Yagami's polite friendliness, Motomiya's casual ease, or Hida's status as a childhood friend.

There was a part of him that was sure he could endure it, if he tried hard enough. He'd done as much with his parents for years. He knew all too well how to live with the kind of resentment that stemmed from being seen as an inferior replacement for somebody, or some _thing_ , more highly valued.

But there was a much larger part that raged at the thought of being put in that position again, after finally managing to escape.

He had come here to be alone; to be free. No more expectations or social norms or responsibilities. No more guilt. But it wasn't enough. Not anymore.

And he knew it was futile, to hope that he could expect to see her once all of this was over. So was it really so wrong, to want to make the best of the time he had left? To want to eke out some measure of happiness in the one place he'd come to think of as his sanctuary?

Yes, he thought. It was wrong, and selfish, and completely unfair. But he didn't care.

He would defeat the imposters and banish them from his domain once and for all, so that Miyako saw that their struggle was hopeless. So that she would see that the Kaiser was her only option left.

It wasn't what he really wanted, but it was the best he could hope for. So he would endure the consequences, whatever they may be.

He brought up the file containing Chimeramon's data on his main screen, a frown creasing the corners of his lips. The digimon was technically complete, and yet he had a niggling feeling that something was _missing_. Something that would mark the beast as truly sinister.

And there was also the matter of the Digimental he'd found.

Taking a deep breath, he cast his worries aside and began to work, his fingers typing furiously. It was a reprieve that he desperately needed.

His concentration was interrupted, however, by the all-too-familiar sound of skittering insectoid legs.

"Please tell me what's wrong, Ken-chan," said Wormmon, in that insipid, earnest voice of his. "Did something happen with Miyako-san?"

The Kaiser had been very clear that Wormmon was not to be anywhere in sight when Miyako visited the base, or speak of her when she was gone. Indeed, this was the first time it had been foolish enough to break that rule. And yet, he didn't feel angry. Or even annoyed.

He looked down at the pathetic creature, and felt a sudden, shameful impulse to accept the empty comfort that it offered him. To pick it up and hold it close, pretending that its love was something other than ones and zeroes arranged just so.

So between the two of them, the Kaiser knew that he was the more pathetic one. Wormmon was just following an imperative in his programming, while the Kaiser was a human being with free will.

" _How many times do I have to mistreat you before you have the dignity to abandon me?"_ he wanted to ask. _"_ _You keep approaching me like you expect a different outcome._ _That's the definition of insanity."_

It was with that thought that a wave of his usual disgust finally hit him. "If there was anything wrong, it would be none of your business," he snarled. And yet, he couldn't quite bring himself to tell the digimon to leave. He didn't say as much, but Wormmon no doubt understood by the lack of a more violent reprimand.

Without another word, the Kaiser immersed himself once more in his previous task. The pleasant numbness of concentration returned to him.

* * *

The Kaiser hadn't contacted her for a week.

Under normal circumstances this would've been a mostly positive experience, but now it filled her with dread.

In truth, she was worried about him. And it was only partly because she feared what he might do in such a volatile state. She'd suspected for a while that at least some of his outward arrogance was a facade; she had, after all, done the same thing all too often. But even if it wasn't a facade, emotionally healthy people didn't make a habit out of playing sadistic mindgames or enslaving thousands of innocent creatures.

That night had made her certain of it, however. She had finally seen what Ken Ichijouji truly thought of himself.

She was now certain that, however much he hated her friends, and claimed to hate the rest of humanity, it was himself that he hated most of all. And for some reason, that made her terribly sad.

But mostly worried.

She pulled out her D-terminal, writing, **I want to see you.** Then sent the message before she could second-guess herself.

The reply was almost instant. **Tell me when you want to come. I'll give you coordinates.**

She glanced at her bedside clock, which told her that it was late afternoon. A few more hours of studying, and then she would bite the bullet.

 **Alright,** she sent back. **I'll let you know.**

* * *

The coordinates landed her in his control room, greeted by the sight of the Kaiser typing diligently away while he sat on his throne. He didn't move to stand up, or stop, so she walked over to him and looked at the giant monitor.

It contained lines and lines of complex computer code that was mostly inscrutable despite her own experience with programming. It made a lump start to form in her stomach. "Up to something nefarious?" she asked lightly.

"Naturally," he said, and finally stopped typing, pressing one final key to minimize whatever it was that he'd been working on.

"So. Any particular reason for the radio silence?"

His mouth twisted into a smirk. "You sound upset," he said. "And here I thought I was doing you a favor."

She rolled her eyes. "We didn't exactly leave things on the best of terms. You can't blame me for being worried."

"Ah, I see. You thought that I was angry, and was going to do something petty to get back at you for it."

Sighing in frustration, she walked between him and the monitor, taking off his dark glasses. His eye had healed considerably, his skin slightly yellow and green instead of black and blue. She traced it lightly with her fingers. "Does it still hurt?"

He averted his gaze. "Only a little."

He looked very vulnerable, just then –- like a child who had scraped his knee. She moved closer.

"What are you doing?" he asked, tensing slightly.

She slid onto his lap, straddling her legs over his so that they were practically chest-to-chest, and put her arms around his neck. Already, she could feel him reacting to her closeness. "Distracting you from your nefarious plans," she said.

His eyes had gone glassy and a little unfocused, his breaths coming in far more quickly than just a few moments earlier. "You think it will be that easy?" he asked, his strained tone belying the boast of his words.

She moved in even closer, dipping her head down to skim her lips over his cheek, shifting her hips just slightly. His breath hitched audibly in response. "Yeah," she said. "I do."

He let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper as she moved her hips again, harder this time, and she felt a thrill run down her spine. She felt sexy, and...powerful. It was definitely something she could see herself getting used to. She leaned in to kiss him, gentle and slow, teasing his lips apart as she began to rock at a steady pace. Not hard, though. Just enough to get him to make more of those desperate, keening sounds that made her feel warm and tingly all over.

He was getting impatient, sliding his hands into her hair and deepening the kiss. She could feel the way he was trembling, straining not to give in to whatever it was his body was telling him to do. Putting her hands up against his chest, she pushed back and took in the sight of his flushed, helpless face. She bit her lip at the sight, suddenly struck by a hunger that she hadn't felt since that night she'd gotten drunk. Here was the big bad Digimon Kaiser, the scourge of the Digital World, Mr. Perfect. And _she_ -– clumsy, loud Inoue Miyako –- had reduced him to a quivering pile of goo. She felt an evil little smile spreading across her face.

She leaned in close again, putting her mouth by his ear, and said, "It looks like you're gonna make a mess in your pants, Ken-kun."

"Shut up," he said, though the words – breathless and strained – lacked any of their usual sting,

She kissed down the side of his neck, giving a particularly hard thrust against him, and felt a thrill of triumph when he made a very strained noise in response. "It's okay," she said, kissing back up to his ear and tugging on the lobe with her teeth. "I want you to."

His hands tightened almost painfully in her hair, but he didn't push her away. She could tell that he wanted to say something, yet he seemed to be at a loss. So she didn't give him the chance, kissing him again, moving hard and fast against him. He broke off the kiss as he threw his head back, knocking the back of it against his throne, and let out a choked-off cry. His body stiffened beneath her, then relaxed; she could feel the way his muscles twitched beneath the fabric of his jumpsuit.

He looked unbelievably cute, with his cheeks flushed red and his eyes screwed shut. There was the strangest tightening in her chest, and she kissed the tip of his nose, running her hands through his unruly hair. It was surprisingly soft and tangle-free –- some magic trick of the Digital World. She kissed him lightly on the lips, her chest tightening even more.

He turned his head away, though, his cheeks reddening even more. "Stop it," he said.

Miyako's nerves felt like they were on fire; all she wanted to do was reach up and turn his head back so she could kiss him properly again. But she forced herself to let her hands fall away. "Okay," she replied. "Do you want me to go?"

He opened his eyes at last, and she could see that his pupils were still blown wide. "...No," he said, and he sounded...wounded. Like she had punched him in the gut. "Do you..." he swallowed, averting his eyes. "Can I touch you?"

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Yeah," she said.

If it was even possible, his cheeks became redder still. "Let's switch places, then." He pushed her off of him gently, following her onto his feet, then guided her to sit down. His hands lingered on her shoulders for a few moments before he pulled back.

She noticed the wet patch on the front of his jumpsuit, and heat whipped between her legs. He must have noticed where her eyes lingered, however, since his entire face turned into a tomato. Fiddling with something on his armband, his Kaiser getup melted away in a flurry of data, replaced by his old school uniform. She had to admit that it looked very dashing on him.

She wanted very badly to run her hands through his now-straight hair.

"Can I take off your clothes?" he asked, voice steady despite his blush.

She nodded her head in assent.

He fiddled with the armband again – the only part of his Kaiser costume that remained – and she felt her clothes literally _melt off of her_. The data flurry looked even more surreal from up close. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh at the sudden cold.

She bit her bottom lip, then said, "That's a neat trick, but warn me next time."

He smiled slightly at last, his eyes creasing at the sides. "That wouldn't have been nearly as fun." His gaze swept up and down her body, and she shivered. It was only half from the cold.

He knelt down in front of her, then, and began to kiss his way up from her ankle on her right leg. It tickled pleasantly, and she felt her eyes falling shut in order to better enjoy the sensation. She only opened them again when she felt his mouth brush across her inner thigh, breath fanning out against the wetness just beyond it.

She let out a shaky breath. "Doesn't it...smell?"

"A little," he admitted. "But...I guess I don't mind it." He sounded rather surprised.

"You don't have to..." she said, her cheeks burning.

"I know," he murmured. "I want to." He looked up at her, dark eyes shining oddly in the light of the monitors. "Do _you_ want me to?"

It took her a few beats, but she eventually nodded her head. That was all it took for him to get to work. He fumbled for a few minutes, clearly new to the activity, but soon found a rhythm that had her head swimming.

When her mind finally cleared, she found that she had sunk down in the throne, her butt balanced precariously on the edge, her legs thrown over the armrests. She might have cared if her entire body didn't feel as though it was made of jello.

He pulled back and licked his lips, his eyes taking in his handiwork. Then, without saying a word, he stood up and scooped her into his arms.

She let her head lull against his chest, let her eyes close, and simply enjoyed the feeling of being held in strong arms. He was taking her to his room, she thought idly. The suspicion was confirmed when he lay her gently down on his bed.

She heard him opening the bedside drawer, and then felt his weight shifting on the bed beside her. She knew now what he wanted.

She wanted it too.

She said as much aloud, perhaps more lewdly than was strictly necessary. It took him only seconds to acquiesce to her pleading.

It felt amazingly good, if not quite reaching the heights he'd managed with his mouth. And it lasted much longer than the first time had. She ran her hands through his hair and whispered filthy things in his ear and kissed him over and over, feeling floaty, as though there was nothing in the entire world but this room and their two bodies.

The sound he made when he finished was muffled against her neck, and she felt his weight leave the bed with surprising speed. He was back just as quickly, however, sliding his mouth down the now-sweaty skin of her chest and stomach until he reached the apex of her legs.

It didn't take long at all until her body was arching off the bed, her hands clawing at the sheets as though it was the only thing that would keep her from flying away.

Her breathing evened out as he lay down beside her.

"Well," he said. "I've certainly been thoroughly distracted."

The words cut through her post-coital haze, causing her chest to tighten and a knot to form in her stomach. She felt tears well up in her eyes, tasted salt in her mouth. She reached up to cover her face with her hands, not wanting him to see.

"...I know that you're crying, Miyako-san," he said. "You don't have to try and hide it."

She sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"Is this going to happen every time?" he asked softly.

She turned her head into the pillow. "I'm sorry," she said, not sure if she meant it or not.

"You don't have to apologize," he said. "To me, or anyone else. Actually..." He gave a shaky sigh. " _I_ should apologize. For making you feel as though you need to hide your feelings from me. I was being foolish, and selfish. I didn't understand my own feelings. I didn't.-" Another sigh. "I was angry because, on some level, I knew you'd never feel the same way. So...I took it out on you. It wasn't fair, and I'm sorry."

She was so shocked by the admission that her tears actually stopped. Shifting her head to look at him, she examined his face for some sign that he was messing with her. But there was nothing but open sincerity to be found. Sincerity, and pain. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. "You say that you're sorry," she began, "but I get the feeling that nothing's actually going to change."

His eyes searched hers intently for a few long moments. It left her cheeks burning, and she couldn't hold his gaze. "I misunderstood you, back then," he said, pointedly ignoring her statement. "I expected you to be able to leave behind your feelings for others when they became inconvenient. But you're not that sort of person, Miyako-san. You don't live your life by some cynical calculation of pros and cons. Your feelings are always sincere."

She couldn't think of anything to say, though her eyes started to burn again. He continued: "Honestly? All those things you've said about me have been true. I _am_ childish and cruel." He smiled bitterly. "But you see, that's why I'm the perfect human being: I'm the living embodiment of everything that's allowed humanity to survive. Which is why it's better for me to stay here." He ran a hand through her hair, letting the stands slide lazily through splayed fingers. "I'm happier without having to deal with the rest of our pathetic species, and they're happier not having to deal with me. Because it's only a matter of time before they see me for what I truly am, and realize that you don't become the best at anything by being a good person. They want so badly to believe that humanity is different from the rest of the natural world, but my existence is a testament to the fact that we aren't." His smile widened in an almost predatory manner. "Which means that it's only matter of time before I disappoint them..." His hand trailed down to her lips, his thumb swiping over them in a gentle mockery of a kiss. "...just like I disappointed _you_ , Miyako-san. Because you're not like me. You live honestly, and expect everyone else to as well."

She couldn't decide if she wanted to jerk away from or lean into the touch, and her ambivalence left her unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

He gave a little chuckle at that, letting his hand fall down to the pillow. "I know you think I'm wrong," he said. "It doesn't matter if you do. It doesn't change anything."

She swallowed thickly and rolled onto her side, facing away from him. "Whatever you say, Ken-kun."

His voice was just as bitter as his smile. "It's why this hurts you so much, isn't it? You can't just pretend that this is a cunning way of helping your friends. You know you do it because you like the way I can make you feel." He slid his arm around her waist, spooning her from behind. "But, for what it's worth, it's not as if anything would change if you denied yourself what you want. I'm going to defeat your friends, distractions or not. And I'm going to keep doing what I need to do in order to see you, even if we never do something like this again." He kissed the back of her head. "It's okay if you want to use me, though. I don't mind. I like to make you feel good."

She started to cry again, and couldn't help the sob that escaped her lips.

He held her closer. "And it's okay to be sincere with your feelings around me. If you're angry, you can shout and hit me and call me names. And if you're sad, you can cry. I promise that I won't hold it against you anymore. Because...I love you, Miyako-san. Which means that I love angry Miyako-san and sad Miyako-san, as well. I even love the Miyako-san who hates me more than anything else in the world."

She sobbed once more, louder this time, but he didn't say anything else. He just let her cry, holding her, stroking her hair and murmuring what sounded like nonsense into her ear.

Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

It really was very pleasant to wake up with Miyako in his arms, her body warm and snug against his. He knew from the steady rise and fall of her chest that she was still asleep. He nuzzled into her hair, taking in the subtle floral scent of her shampoo, and smiled blissfully.

It was with great reluctance that he finally forced himself to slide out of the bed. He'd already discovered that he didn't actually have to be that careful when doing so. Miyako slept like a rock.

He'd also discovered that Miyako wasn't much of a morning person - even less so when she was hungry - so he headed to the kitchen diligently after brushing his teeth to get her breakfast prepared. He went Western this time: pancakes, ham, eggs, and toast. Thinking of Miyako's delighted reaction made him smirk triumphantly.

Without a doubt, the way to Inoue Miyako's heart was at least partly through her stomach.

After he had set out their respective plates, he went back to his bedroom to find that Miyako was already awake. She was sitting up on the bed, legs crossed under the duvet, looking dazed.

"Good morning," he said, walking over to her. "How did you sleep?"

She rubbed at her eyes. "Fine," she replied. "What time is it?"

He checked the alarm clock on the bedside table, which she evidently couldn't see properly without her glasses on. "6:30," he said, then plucked said glasses off the table and handed them to her.

"Thanks," she said, sliding them up her nose.

She was still naked, her bare nipples pebbled in the cool air of the room, and he was struck by a sudden desire to straddle her and take them in his mouth.

She must've noticed where he was looking, because she blushed and pulled the duvet up to cover herself. He blushed too, guilt and shame and not a little disappointment twisting in his gut. "Sorry," he said.

She shook her head. "It's fine."

Well, that obviously wasn't true. But he wasn't going to press the point. "Breakfast is ready," he said. "I'll wait for you in the kitchen while you get dressed."

She joined him about 10 minutes later, fresh-faced and damp-haired from a shower. "Sorry that I didn't say 'good morning'," she said apologetically, sliding out the chair to sit across from him. "I was a bit out of it when I woke up."

"I noticed," he said, secretly pleased to hear her acknowledge the unintentional rudeness. It wasn't so much that the slip had bothered him, though; he was just glad that she cared enough to say something at all. And evidently not out of fear. He wasn't going to ask her if something was wrong, though, because he already knew the answer. Instead, he asked, "Would you like some coffee?"

She pulled a face. "I'll make myself some tea."

He shook his head. "I'll make you some. You sit and eat."

Looking down at the plate in front of her, he could see her resolve wavering. "I haven't had a Western breakfast in years," she said. "This looks amazing."

"So eat," he instructed, standing up to go put on the kettle.

She deliberated for a few moments before clapping her hands together with a "Thanks for the food!". Then she cut into her stack of pancakes - dripping with syrup and butter - and took a bite. She closed her eyes and groaned as she chewed.

The Kaiser might've smirked, but he was focusing too hard on ignoring the way that his body heated at the sound.

After another few bites, she said, "Be careful. If you keep making me food like _this_ , you're going to make me fatter."

He frowned as he poured some boiling water into a mug. "Implying that you're fat now," he said. He remembered then what those girls at the diner had said about her, and wanted very badly to make them suffer.

"Well..." She put her hand on her tummy, which was curved ever-so-slightly outward. "I'm not exactly skinny."

He sighed, walking over to set the mug down in front of her. "Maybe not. But I don't think it would suit you." It was never something he'd really thought about or even really noticed before. Still, he found himself frowning when he imagined her with smaller curves and less...softness.

Shrugging, she said, "No accounting for taste," and picked up a pair of chopsticks to have a go at the ham.

He didn't respond, even though the statement rankled. He sat down and picked at his eggs instead, still trying to ignore the breathy sounds of pleasure Miyako made as she ate. Had she always made them, or was she just starting now? He suspected the former, since he'd always liked watching her eat. Even before all of this had started, he remembered his attention lingering on her during Golden Week, when she and her comrades were at that ill-advised picnic.

His annoyance grew at the reminder of his own lack of self-awareness. That he hadn't recognized the attraction for what it was.

The memory also reminded him that he should make Miyako futomaki some time, since she obviously liked it so much.

"Um..." she said after a minute or two of silence, putting down the chopsticks.

"What is it?" he pressed, making a conscious effort not to snap the question. He hated it when she hesitated, because it usually meant that she was going to say something that she knew would make him angry. He wasn't in the mood for an argument.

She straightened. "I have to study tomorrow. I was wondering if you could maybe help me."

He was struck momentarily dumb by the surge of happiness that coursed through his body.

Miyako must have taken his stunned silence as a repudiation, because she said, "Nevermind. You must think it's a waste of your time."

"N-no!" he said, his hand moving across the table of its own accord to cover hers. "I was just surprised that you asked." He smiled shyly, mostly because he couldn't stop himself. "It would be my pleasure to help you."

Her cheeks went pink. "When would be a good time?"

He pulled his hand back, because it was making it harder to ignore how much he wanted to touch her in other ways. The impact she had on the coherence of his thoughts was only getting worse. "That's up to you," he said. His schedule was the far more flexible one, after all.

"In the morning, then. 10?"

"That's fine."

She grinned. "Thanks."

He wanted to kiss her so badly that he had to force himself to look away. "It's no problem," he said, flushing. She was too cute; it wasn't fair.

Did she feel like this too, when she looked at him? Had she missed him even a little during the week they'd been apart?

He doubted it.

"I need to get back home," she said, standing. "Thanks again. Breakfast was delicious."

He stood as well, crossing over to her, and pulled her into a kiss. When he pulled back, he murmured, "Have a nice day."

She let out shaky breath. "I'd say the same, but I don't think I'd like your definition of a 'nice day'."

Smirking, he leaned in close, but this time gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Fair enough," he said. "See you tomorrow."

She nodded, breaking the embrace - reluctantly, he was pleased to see - and headed for the control room.

* * *

Before she headed to school, Miyako felt compelled to pop in at Iori's apartment. It had been a few days since she'd seen him last - seen any of the others, really - and the isolation of it was hitting her very acutely right then.

Iori was the one who answered the door, since his mother had already gone to work, and Miyako had to struggle not to burst into tears when she saw his face. She managed to restrain that particular impulse, but not the one that made her fling her arms around him.

He stiffened at first, before sliding his arms around her back to return the hug. When he spoke, he sounded as worried as she'd ever heard him. "What's wrong, Miyako-san?"

She pulled back, biting her bottom lip. "I wish I could tell you," she said.

He frowned, green eyes searching hers. "Why can't you?"

"Because I'm too ashamed. And scared." She was so, so tired of lying.

He nodded slowly. "You'll tell me when you're ready," he said, and his absolute faith in her was like a punch in the gut.

Swallowing, she asked, "Can I maybe hold Upamon? Just for a little?"

"Of course," said Iori, and went to his bedroom to fetch the little digimon.

When he returned, Upamon sprung happily into Miyako's arms, and she pulled his soft body close, resting her cheek against him. "Everything will be alright, dagyaa," said the digimon. "You can count on me and Iori!"

She pulled away, nodded, and forced a grin. "I know I can." Standing, she put Upamon down on the sofa and gave Iori a bow. "Thanks," she said. "Have a good day, you two."

She left them feeling worse.

* * *

Miyako had trouble focusing at school that day, her mind constantly wandering to Ken. What he was doing (probably something horrible), how he was feeling (who could possibly guess?), what he might be planning (probably something even more horrible). The glimpse of the code she'd seen on his screen yesterday had left a knot of foreboding in the pit of her stomach, and it only kept growing as the day dragged on.

This couldn't go on, she knew. She had to stop being a selfish coward and do something to help the others. She had access to the Kaiser and his base - there had to _something_ she could do. If she told the others, she could probably storm the Kaiser's throne room with all of them. But she had no doubt that he'd thought of that already. So after he'd swarmed them with the slaves he kept in the bowels of his base, or set of some horrible booby trap, he'd kill Hawkmon and do who-knew-what to Agumon.

She could offer to make him tea - like she'd promised - then drug it. Drag him back to the real world, confiscate his D3, and banish him from the Digital World for good. Of course, she had no idea where to get those kinds of drugs. And she had a feeling that he had some kind of contingency in place should he not show up at his base for a long enough period of time. A self-destruct domino that would result in untold devastation across the Digital World, probably.

There was also the matter of it being kind of...evil. She wasn't sure she'd be able to live with herself after pulling a stunt like that, even if she hadn't seen that there was human being beneath all the Digimon Kaiser's outward posturing.

She could talk to Ken's parents; tell them all about the Digital World, and what their son was doing to it. Have his mother record a message begging him to stop his conquest and come home.

But that might just backfire, pissing Ken off enough to make him follow through with his threat of killing Hawkmon. She knew now that he wouldn't do it over some petty offense - but his parents were clearly a sore spot better left alone.

In the end, the only viable option she could think of was somehow appealing to his feelings for _her_. She wasn't sure if he actually loved her, but he definitely felt _something_ for her. Something...intense. Maybe she could just...ask him to stop.

 _Wishful thinking,_ sneered a voice in her head. It sounded suspiciously like Ken.

Well, at least he'd agreed to help her study. As selfish as it was, she guessed that was a kind of silver lining.

Small victories were better than nothing.

* * *

She arrived at the assigned time on Sunday morning, accompanied by a raging headache and her mathematics textbook. Ken was waiting for her, dressed in a pair of grey slacks and a cozy-looking sweater. He looked like a librarian.

 _A very cute librarian,_ she thought, grumpily.

He came closer, presumably to kiss her, but stopped short when he caught sight of her face. "Are you alright?" he asked, his concern disgustingly genuine.

"Not really," she admitted. "I had trouble sleeping and my head is killing me."

"I have some painkillers in my room," he said, taking her by the hand. "And you can lie down if you like."

She shook her head. "Painkillers sound good, but I'm too anxious to sleep."

"Do you think you'll be able to concentrate on studying?"

Shrugging, she said, "At this point, anything will help."

They walked in silence for a few moments, until he finally asked, "What's making you anxious?"

She was tempted to answer "isn't it obvious?", but - realizing that it probably _wasn't_ obvious to him - went with the truth instead. "A lot of things. I worry about what you're planning, and school. But I think right now I'm mostly just hung up on all the lying and sneaking around."

"I see," he said, as they arrived at the door of his bedroom, which was already open.

She let go of his hand. "I'm no good at lying. I mean, when I was little, I actually went through this stage where I had to tell the truth _all the time_. And I don't just mean not lying. Like, if my Mom wanted to hold my hand, and I knew that it was dirty, I'd have to list out all the gross things I'd done that day." She let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. "This one time, in first grade, I got really frightened on a field trip to this old, spooky house, and I peed myself. So I raised my hand and told the teacher - in front of the whole class. Some of them didn't stop calling me 'Oshikko'(1) until I reached middle school."

His eyebrows had migrated up his forehead.

"Anyway," she continued, stepping through the door, "It's still hard for me to lie, even by omission. So that's a big part of why I feel so anxious."

He followed her into the room, headed over the desk, and pulled out a chair - for her, clearly, since he didn't sit in it. "I never said that you had to keep our meetings a secret," he pointed out, his tone taking on a defensive quality.

"I know," she said, sitting down in the aforementioned chair and placing her textbook in front of her. A pad of paper and several writing utensils were already there. "This is all on me, for being a coward."

He went over to one of the cabinets built into the wall, opened it, and pulled out a bottle. "You're not a coward, Miyako-san." He shook some of the bottle's contents into his hand. "You're just in a challenging position."

"How understanding of you," she muttered, rubbing her temples.

He didn't respond, going to the bathroom, and returned a few moments later with a cup of water. He handed it to her, along with a pair of pills. "Acetaminophen," he said. "You're not planning on having any alcohol, are you?"

"Nope," she said, then swallowed them with sip of water.

Finally, he sat down. "So, what are we going over today?"

"Calculus!" she announced with false cheer, clapping her hands together. She opened the textbook to one of several bookmarks. "In particular, this." She pointed to the chapter heading: _Calculating the Volume of Solids through Revolution_.

They got stuck in. Ken was a surprisingly patient instructor, and it turned out that she'd been struggling due to one very silly, easily-correctable mistake. He took out a calculator from the desk drawer and gave her a series of problems to solve.

It took her about ten minutes to solve them all, before she handed the piece of paper back to him.

He scanned it quickly, his face beginning to fall. Miyako crossed her arms with a huff. "I'm pretty sure they're not _that_ bad."

He shook his head. "They're all correct."

"Then what's the problem?"

Gazing down at the paper with a stricken look on his face, he said, "It's just that...I was wrong."

"You're going to have to be more specific than that," she said. 'Cause really, what _wasn't_ he wrong about?

He sighed, having no doubt detected her meaning, but he didn't get angry. Instead, he said, "About you being an idiot. I was wrong."

She was struck dumb for a few moments. Of all the answers she'd been expecting, that had certainly not been one of them. Was he trying to flatter her? "You don't have to lie, Ken-kun," she said, frowning.

He frowned as well. "Some words just can't be taken back, I suppose."

Miyako shrugged. "Not when they're true."

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't like it when you talk about yourself like that."

She didn't say anything, but her expression no doubt gave away what she was thinking: _because it's your job to insult me, right?_

His frown softened into something much sadder. "You're not ugly, or a coward, or a whore." He swallowed. "And you're not annoying, either."

He had never called her any of those things, to be sure. Not even at the start. It was no secret that he didn't find her ugly - but she chalked that up to him being crazy. As for the rest...

"You find me plenty annoying, Ken-kun." Enough that he'd come very close to punishing her for it.

He shook his head. "You're frustrating sometimes, but that's not the same thing. I'm not exactly a tolerant person, Miyako-san. Why would I want to be near you if you annoyed me?"

"I guess you wouldn't." She bit her bottom lip, then said, "Um, try not to take this the wrong way, Ken-kun - but, the thing is..." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "You're kinda...crazy."

There was a pause, and then: "There's a right way to take that?" The question was sardonic rather than cold..

"I guess not," she conceded.

He said nothing for a moment, lips pursed, and then: "Maybe I am crazy, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong." He let out a breath. "I may not be a good person, but it doesn't mean I can't recognize good traits in others. I love you for _reason_ , Miyako-san."

She wasn't entirely sure why, but those words frustrated her. Enough that she found herself snapping, "Can we just not talk about this?" Then, before she could think any better of it: "Why do you always have to make everything into an enormous _dramafest_?" She crossed her arms. "Can't you go even _one day_ without vomiting your feelings all over me?"

The look on his face made her instantly regret the outburst. Not because she was afraid, but because she felt guilty. He looked as though she had knocked the wind right out of him.

She pushed back her chair and stood up. "I screwed this up. I should probably go."

"No!" he said quickly, and rather more loudly than necessary. He grabbed her wrist gently, then said, more softly, "No, you don't have to. It's my fault." His smile was apologetic and obviously fake. "I was being self-indulgent and presumptuous at your expense."

Her frustration was back, so intense that she almost felt like crying. She was so tired of being confused all the time. "Can you just make up your mind?!" she yelled, and her eyes were suspiciously wet.

He frowned in what appeared to be genuine confusion. "I don't know what you mean by that."

Yanking her hand out of his grip, she said, "I don't know how you can't." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "You need to decide if you're Ken-kun or the Digimon Kaiser when you're with me. I'll go crazy if you don't pick one."

He blinked. "They're the same," he said. "I can't just 'pick one'."

Her hands were starting to shake. "So then..." She took a deep breath, licked her lips. "You need to decide if you're on my side or not. And I don't mean about the Digital World."

"What _do_ you mean, then?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

She took another deep breath, resisting the urge to yell at him again. She didn't understand why this wasn't all obvious. "Sometimes, you can be very understanding and kind. You act as though my happiness and success actually mean something to you. But other times, you make me feel like I'm worthless, and all that matters is how I can benefit _you_. And I just wish you would pick one so that I'd know which to expect."

He swallowed, averting his gaze. "I'm sorry that I called you worthless."

She shook her head. "I don't want apologies, Ken-kun. I want you to _make up your mind._ "

His said nothing for what seemed like a very long while, staring at the ground. His voice was so soft that she almost couldn't hear it when he finally spoke. "I _am_ on your side, Miyako-san."

Huffing out a breath, she said, "You don't act like it."

His eyes narrowed. "You mean because I won't give the Hawkmon back," he said flatly.

"For a start." She figured that there was no point in dodging the issue. Not if he was the one to bring it up.

There was no malice in his next words - just simple, matter-of-fact honesty. And that just made them worse.

"You must know that it can never love you back."

She blinked, flabbergasted. With some effort, she managed to wheeze out, "...What?"

"The Hawkmon," he said. "It can never love you back. Not really." He shrugged. "It can make a realistic show of it. That's what it's been designed for. But it's all just computer code; if input equals x, output equals y."

Miyako felt the beginnings of rage starting to bubble up the back of her throat. "You're wrong," she growled.

He let out a long-suffering sigh. "You're only getting this angry because you know that I'm right. And I understand - it's must be so wonderful to think that there's a special companion out there who's wholly devoted to you. Who was literally _born_ for you." His eyes were sad. "But it's a _lie_ , Miyako-san."

"Shut up," she said, so angry that her whole body was shaking. She felt hot tears slide down her cheeks. "You think you know everything - but you are so _full of shit_."

"I won't lie and say that I had any kind of benevolent intent when I captured it," he said, apparently unfazed by her intense reaction. "But things are different now, and giving it back to you would just be enabling a dangerous delusion. I don't see that as 'being on your side', Miyako-san."

She was so angry that she couldn't formulate words. She wanted to run up to him and slap him on his smug, sanctimonious face. She wanted to run away and rip an entire stack of printer paper to shreds. She wanted to yell at him until her throat was sore. Somehow, she managed to ask him a question instead. "If I'm _so delusional,_ then why do you keep that Wormmon around?"

The insectoid digimon was always scarce whenever she came over, but she'd caught sight of him more than once. He'd always scurried away before she'd gotten the chance to speak with him, though. After a few such incidents, she'd eventually recognized it as the digimon who always seemed to be by the Kaiser's side during their confrontations in the past. And then she'd put two and two together.

Ken looked taken-aback for a moment, but he regained his composure quickly. His gaze was disgustingly earnest as he said, "I wasn't lying when I said that I understand."

And, just like that, all the rage drained out of her, along with all of her energy. She was suddenly very, very tired. "I need to go," she said.

"You don't," he said. "We don't have to talk about this anymore. I can still help you study."

She shook her head. "I can't stand to look at you right now." And she couldn't. The expression on his face made her feel like puking.

His mouth tightened. "I see." He crossed his arms. "If you're going to be childish, then go."

She didn't need to be told twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) 'Oshikko' is the Japanese word for "pee". It also happens to have the same number of syllables as "Miyako" and end in the same sound, so I figured it worked as a mean kiddie nickname.


	21. Chapter 21

Miyako was still angry the following day. So angry, in fact, that she didn't have any room left in her to be sad.

It was kind of nice, she'd admit, to not be sad for the first time in forever. But the anger wasn't exactly pleasant, either. It roiled inside of her, seeking an outlet, making her feel like she was itching all over.

She was just sick of the whole damn mess. Sick of lying, sick of feeling guilty, sick of being selfish. Most of all, she was sick of the Kaiser and his laundry list of issues. Miyako wasn't sure if he was using her as a toy, as some kind of emotional crutch, or as a twisted combination of both. Whatever the case, she was completely and utterly _done_.

He said he loved her? Well, maybe she believed him. And maybe that was something she could use against him, the way he used her love of Hawkmon and the other Chosen against _her_. Give him a taste of his own damn medicine for once.

Hikari looked worried. "Are you sure about this, Miyako-san? You'll be vulnerable without Hawkmon."

Miyako crossed her arms defiantly. "It's fine. You guys don't have to protect me."

"You say that," said Takeru, frowning slightly, "but that doesn't necessarily make it true. Unless there's something you're not telling us?"

Miyako would've flinched if she wasn't still so angry. Stupid Takeru and his stupid perceptiveness.

Daisuke snorted. "Miyako couldn't hide something to save her life."

"Like you're one to talk!" she snapped at him.

Iori remained pointedly silent, though the constipated look on his face let her know that it was making him very uncomfortable to do so.

Finally, a twinge of guilt just barely broke through the rage. She let her arms fall to her sides. More calmly, she said: "There actually is something I'm not telling you. But I _will_ tell you, after you let me come with today."

"Wait, seriously?" said Daisuke, as Iori visibly relaxed.

"Maybe I'm not as bad at keeping secrets as you thought!" yelled Miyako.

"Well..." said Hikari. "We've all noticed that you've been acting strangely."

"Except for Daisuke-kun," Takeru noted.

Daisuke's face screwed up in consternation. "I noticed! I just thought it was because of stress!"

"Can we just go?" Miyako asked, restlessness clawing at her insides.

"I agree," chimed in Tailmon. "We can save the bickering for later."

Although Miyako was technically the oldest of the active Chosen Children, she often thought that Tailmon acted the most like an adult. And not just because that was the name of her evolutionary form. She sent the feline a grateful look.

Everyone fell silent. Then Takeru said, "Will you do the honors, Miyako-san?"

Nodding with grim determination, Miyako held out her digivice and shouted, "Digital Gate open!"

* * *

"It's strange," Iori mused, as they approached the Dark Tower. "The Kaiser's been much more aggressive with us recently, but he hasn't sent a single slave in to fight us yet."

"It's making me a little nervous," Hikari admitted.

"More aggressive?" Miyako frowned. "In what way?"

"He's been swarming us," Takeru answered. "Relying more on sheer numbers as opposed to strategy. In some ways, it's actually been easier on us."

Iori nodded. "It's almost like he hasn't been giving his slaves any detailed orders. And since their autonomy is limited by the Evil Spirals, their numbers have ended up impeding their ability to act cohesively."

"But he never just leaves us alone like this," said Daisuke. "Hikari-chan's right: it's creepy."

"I'll say," Miyako muttered. She had a feeling she knew the cause of the Kaiser's sudden recklessness, along with the reason behind his hesitation now. "If I were to guess, I think he's working on something big." And his loss of focus made sense, in light of what had happened to his mother. But she wasn't going to bring that up just yet.

"Sounds likely," said Takeru.

The four remaining digimon partners armor evolved and destroyed the tower, but were still met with no resistance.

As they walked back to the Digital Gate, Miyako felt cold determination settle over her. It was time to end the secrets.

* * *

All five Chosen ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor of Iori's bedroom, with the partners amusing themselves in the living room. They were looking at Miyako intently, causing her stomach to twist.

Finally, she gathered up the nerve to say, "The Kaiser's been using Hawkmon and Agumon in order to blackmail me."

The shock was immediate. Hikari was the first to respond, sounding grave. "What has he been making you do?"

Miyako sighed, trying to think of the right words. "He's just been making me spend time with him, really. Nothing-" She blushed hotly. "Nothing like what Dagomon was planning."

Hikari looked visibly relieved.

"So..." Takeru's eyebrows were high up on his forehead. "He's been blackmailing you into dating him?"

It sounded so silly when it was put so plainly. "Pretty much, yeah."

"I think that might be understating it," Iori said, coming as close to scowling as she'd ever seen him. "It's highly immoral on its own, but the Kaiser is hardly a normal person. He probably subjected Miyako-san to verbal and psychological abuse on top of the blackmail."

"That asshole!" Daisuke yelled, his hands balling into fists. "Why didn't you tell us about this sooner?!"

Miyako felt tears starting to prick at the corners of her eyes. "I was scared. And ashamed. I didn't know what to do." Her bottom lip began to tremble. "I'm the worst."

Hikari shook her head. "Not at all, Miyako-san. It's a normal reaction, given what was at stake for you. But I'm very glad you've finally managed to tell us."

"So you're the reason he wasn't attacking us today?" Takeru asked. "Could it be that he's reluctant to risk hurting you?"

"I think so," Miyako replied. At some point, Iori had gotten up to get her a wad of tissues, and she took them from him gratefully. "Physically, at least. I may have crossed a line today, which means he might do something to Hawkmon." She'd been too angry to consider it before, but a knot of dread had started to tighten in her stomach ever since they'd returned from the Digital World.

Takeru frowned deeply. "It's like Iori-kun said: psychological abuse. He's used to getting his way with violence, but he can't rationalize that in the context of a human girl, so he uses manipulation instead."

"This explains why he hasn't used Hawkmon or Agumon against us," Iori said, nodding.

Miyako took in a deep breath. "He will, if I stop doing what he says."

"That's fine!" Daisuke said, voice thick with emotion. "I'd rather have a straight fight than know you're suffering for our sake!"

"Daisuke-kun is right," said Hikari, firmly. "We can't expect you to bear that kind of burden, Miyako-san."

"We should just storm his base and get them back!" exclaimed Daisuke.

Miyako shook her head. "He'll be expecting that, and have at least one contingency plan in place. But probably more than one." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "He probably has a contingency for every possible outcome, actually. I think..." She took another deep breath. "I think the only way we can defeat him without consequences is if we convince him to surrender of his own free will."

"Do you think it's possible?" Hikari asked.

"I don't know," Miyako admitted. "He really hates you guys, and is completely obsessed with conquering the Digital World. He's told me that he doesn't plan to stay there forever, but..."

"But?" Takeru pressed.

"...His mother's in the hospital, and even _that_ wasn't enough to convince him to leave. So I don't know if I believe him."

After a long moment of silence, Iori said, " _Scum_."

Miyako didn't know why, but her stomach twisted at the word.

"...Would you like us to end for the day, Miyako-san?" asked Hikari.

Suddenly unable to find any words, Miyako nodded.

The first thing Miyako did when she got back to her own apartment was check her D-terminal, only to find that she had no new messages.

But even with the ever-present fear that was still gnawing away at her insides, she felt as though a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The others knew. They _knew_ and they didn't hate her.

She hadn't told them everything, of course. But only when it came to stuff that was _meant_ to be private. However much Miyako hated herself for giving into her own weakness, it wasn't as if it had any impact on the outcome of the conflict. It was just a personal shame she'd have to live with for the rest of her life.

She figured that Ken was giving her the silent treatment in order to punish her, so she decided to go to him instead. She packed her backpack with a sleeping bag and went back to the lake where they'd had their picnic.

The lake was a considerable distance from the Digital Gate. It was also pretty chilly. As such, she only walked for a few minutes before laying her sleeping bag down on the flowers and snuggling inside. She closed her eyes, then, taking in the scent of fresh crisp air and wildflowers.

* * *

She was awoken by gentle shaking, and realized as the Kaiser's shadowed face came into view that she'd forgotten to take off her glasses. There was a raw spot on her nose where the bridge had rubbed against her in her sleep.

"You've made your point," he said sharply. "You'll get sick again if you sleep out in the cold."

"We haven't established that you even _can_ get sick in the Digital World," she responded, words slurred slightly with sleepiness.

"I don't care," he hissed. "Either go back home or I'm taking you to my base."

She yawned, her jaw cracking, and became aware of an insistent ache in her lower back. "Your base, then. I wanna talk."

"Fine," he ground out, standing from his crouch. Miyako zipped down the side of the sleeping bag, wiggled out of it gracelessly, and stuffed it back into her backpack. Then, she stood as well, wobbling slightly. He reached out and steadied her gently.

"'M sleepy," she murmured, leaning against him. He was warm and solid and smelled really good.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her in close. "You can sleep in my room. We'll talk tomorrow."

Shaking her head, she said, "Has to be now." She snaked her arms under his coat, resting her head against his chest. "Are you mad at me? 'Cause I'm still mad at you."

He said nothing for a few long inhales against her hair. And then: "...It made me sick, seeing you with them."

"I think I need to pee," she said.

The sound he let out was halfway between a sigh and a laugh. "I'll get the Airdramon."

Miyako shook her head hard. "I'm not riding a slave. We'll go back to my room and redirect. It's quicker, anyway."

"You're being silly," he said, a little fondly.

"I'm not," she insisted, then pulled back and grabbed him by the arm, tugging him after her. "I hate riding on your slaves. It makes me feel like a piece of shit."

He allowed himself to be led, even as she stumbled every-so-often in the semi-darkness. "You _are_ being silly, but I'll do it this way if that's what you prefer."

She rolled her eyes but didn't reply, focusing on the warmth of his hand through the glove. When they arrived in her bedroom, she ditched the backpack while Ken input the coordinates on the Digital Gate program. She'd forgotten to turn off the light, which would earn her an earful the next morning from her mother about wasting electricity. Still, she didn't mind; she could see Ken properly now, without any goggles or gloves or wild hair.

"It's ready," he said, straightening, and Miyako took the opportunity to spin him around and kiss him.

He kissed back eagerly, sliding his hands into her hair. She whimpered softly into the kiss, her entire body heating. But then she remembered the growing discomfort in her bladder and pulled away. "Just give me a second," she said, and tiptoed as quickly as she could out of her room. On the way out, she took note that it was just after one in the morning. Both of her parents were predictably, and thankfully, asleep.

She was back quickly, eager to get to the relative privacy of his base. "Okay. Let's go."

He nodded, reaching into his pocket to pull out his digivice.

She kissed him again once they were in his control room, making quick work of tossing aside his goggles. From there, they stumbled together to his room, unable to keep from kissing each other for any extended period of time. Miyako felt like she'd explode if she wasn't kissing him. Touching him. They fell together onto his bed, and then his hands were all over her, as if he didn't know where he wanted to touch the most.

Moaning, she groped blindly for the bulge she knew had to be there, and earned a hiss when she found it. He pulled back from her with evident reluctance, saying, "W-wait, Miyako-san. I want-"

She pulled her hand away, panting. "What?"

He swallowed visibly, trembling. Idly, she realized that she was trembling too. "I-" he licked his lips, staring down at her with naked want. "It's too embarrassing to say. Can I just-" He swallowed again. "Can I show you?"

She nodded vigorously, because she could barely stand that he wasn't doing whatever-it-was already.

A few seconds later, their clothes evaporated in a haze of data, and his head was suddenly between her legs.

She gasped in surprised pleasure, her eyes sliding closed as she felt him exploring her eagerly with his mouth. Soon his tongue was on that one special spot, his fingers sliding up and into her. It was almost too much all at once. She lost track of time as the pleasure started to build, and whined in protest as he pulled back to say, "In the drawer- can you hand me-?"

"Y-yeah," she murmured, fumbling with the aforementioned drawer to locate a condom. There was the sound of a ripping package after she passed it to him, a few moments of harsh breathing, and then his mouth went back to work - joined in short order by those devilishly clever fingers.

Just as she was about to go over the edge, however, he pulled back, shifting up the bed so that his face was hovering above hers. She could feel his hardness pressing between her legs, and she _ached_.

"Can I?" he murmured.

"Please," she whispered back.

He slid into her, his arm snaking between them to rub where his tongue had been before, picking up speed with every thrust. Before she knew what hit her, she was spiraling over the edge, crying out, the push of him inside of her elevating the sensations to a degree she hadn't thought possible. She felt him shuddering against her as she came down, heard her name come out as a choked moan. Just her name, without the honorific. Her chest tightened, and she pulled him down against her, rolling them both onto their sides.

"I should probably deal with...um..." he began, after a few minutes of lying in the embrace.

"Mmm," she agreed.

She felt awfully cold when he pulled away, though.

* * *

Miyako was still lying on her side when he came back to the bed, and Ken was temporarily mesmerized by seeing the way her breasts were pressed together. The sight was made all the more enticing by the evident lack of any intent to draw attention to herself. She was just comfortable and relaxed: eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, hair cascading onto the pillow.

Lying there like that, she reminded him of some ancient fertility goddess, all smooth soft skin and gentle curves. The only thing that ruined the picture was that she was still wearing her glasses, though that had a different kind of charm.

Her eyes fluttered open as he shifted onto the bed, a small, sleepy smile playing across her lips. "You have a lot of stamina, Ken-kun."

He knew she was referring to the way his sweatpants had tented, and a flush spread hot across his cheeks. It really wasn't fair, how pretty she was. "S-sorry," he said, lying down with his back facing her.

He felt the bed shift as she shifted closer to him, and he didn't resist when she pulled at his shoulder. Once he was on his back, she grinned at him. "There's something I want to try," she said.

His stomach twisted. "Um. What?"

Her honey-brown eyes sparkled with mischief as she reached into his pants and grabbed his erection, pulling it free. Then, before he could formulate a coherent sentence, she wrapped her mouth around him.

It was at that point that he lost the ability to even _think_ coherently.

Her mouth was slick and hot, and he was still so sensitive from before, and she was _actually doing this_. She was...she was...

"Miyako-san-" he managed to gasp out. "I-I can't-"

She hummed, taking him in _deeper,_ and it was just too much. He slapped a hand over his mouth in a vain attempt to keep from making too much noise.

He opened his eyes blearily, feeling her pull away, and barely resisted the urge to curl up into a ball of mortification.

"...Are you okay, Ken-kun?" she asked, sounding worried.

"I'm fine," he muttered. "It's just embarrassing." Pulling up his pants, he said, "It...it must've been disgusting. I'll go get you some water."

"It wasn't so bad; just a little bitter." His face burned even hotter. "But thanks. That would be nice."

Miyako was dressed in a pair of his pajamas when he returned with the glass, sitting cross-legged on the bed. She eagerly gulped down the water he handed her and placed the empty cup on the bedside table.

At length, Ken said, "...I thought you were angry with me."

"I was," she replied, putting the pillow upright against the wall and leaning back, pulling her legs up to her chest. "I still am, actually."

And here came the part he'd been wanting to avoid. But, at least she wasn't crying. "I'm still angry at you, as well," he said, as the memory of seeing her with the impostors managed to chase away most of his lingering embarrassment.

"I know." She pushed a strand of her behind her ear. "It's the real reason why you won't give Hawkmon back, isn't it? Not wanting me to fight anymore, I mean."

He didn't bother to deny it.

"You said it made you sick, seeing me with the others? Well, that's how I feel every time I think of Hawkmon in one of your cells."

He swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I don't know what else to do," he admitted. "I don't think I'll ever see you again if I give him back." Saying it out loud felt a little like being punched in the stomach.

"Ken-kun..." She took a deep breath. "What would it take for you to surrender?"

He chuckled at that, bitterly, feeling something like hopelessness rising up in the back of his throat. "Is this the part where you martyr yourself, Miyako-san? Where you graciously offer to tolerate me indefinitely in exchange for my cooperation?"

"...Yeah. I guess so."

He was disgusted at himself for finding the offer genuinely tempting. If he were a better person, he might just be able to endure it again. He'd be able to say: _I can give up anything as long as I can still be by your side_. But he knew her, now – knew that she cared for her friends more than she would ever care for him. And he could just picture what their relationship would be like, once he surrendered: awkward, stilted conversations, every touch and kiss she deigned to give him preceded and followed by careful glances to make sure that none of the others had seen. She would _try;_ he knew that she would. But it wouldn't be enough.

"I decline, then," he said, his hands clenching into fists.

She shifted to the opposite edge of the bed. "Whether you give Hawkmon back to me, or kill him, or make me watch as you hurt him-" her voice hitched, before she managed to continue. "Whatever you choose to do, Ken-kun, that's on you. But I can't do this anymore." She stood up. "I don't know if I'll never want to see you again. I actually do care about you, even though you've hurt me a lot. But..." She picked up her digivice from the bedside table. "But, if I ever do decide to see you again, it'll be on my own terms."

He felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. "I could just _make_ you stay, you know."

Her voice remained steady, this time. "You'd keep me locked up here, even if it means that I'd lose any chance at having a real future, or that my family thought I was dead?"

He felt his eyes burning, and was struck by the mental image of Miyako, trapped in her old cell, broken and miserable. Fighting down a sudden bout of nausea, he finally managed to say, "I wouldn't."

There was a long pause, and then: "I'm gonna go now, Ken-kun."

He didn't turn around to watch her walk away.


End file.
